Battle for Neverland
by madmongoose5876
Summary: A 21st century woman finds herself aboard Hook's ship by mistake. As she tries to find a way back home, an evil force threatens the island and every living thing on it, forcing old enemies to temporarily make amends. Fox's Peter Pan and the Pirates.
1. Chapter 1

Spiteful laughter echoed across the deck of the sailing vessel that had plagued the waters of Kidd's Creek Bay for so long now. The Jolly Roger had always been the dark blot that marred the rest of Neverland's fair features, but now, the ship's malicious nature seemed to be spreading in billowing clouds to the rest of the island. The thunder that roared from the usually peaceful Neverland sky mimicked the cruelty in that guttural, wicked cackle as lightning ripped through the swelling clouds, casting the gnarly, unnatural silhouette of Hook Island against the sky.

Pirates and Lost Boys had long since ceased their battling with each other and now looked on at their respective leaders as they sparred. Even Neverland itself seemed to know what the outcome of this battle would be as the sky darkened to a dull, sickly green.

"You'll taste cold steal _this_ day, _boy_."

These words had passed through the captain's lips more times than anyone could count, but there was something different about them this time. And everyone felt it. Everyone except that eternal boy who laughed down at the pirate captain with a mocking grin.

That boy that had made Captain James Hook's life a living hell from the day he had laid eyes on the cursed island. How the Captain loathed that wretched child. How his namesake itched to bury itself between his ribs and yet was denied that privilege _time_ after _time_ after _time_.

But this battle wasn't like those before. This time, Hook could sense his own victory, smell it in the air, even. It was unmistakable that Peter Pan would draw his terminal breath this day. With a newfound confidence, Hook leered at his prey, the red of his eyes beginning to glow from behind his icy blue irises.

He sneered up at the flying boy and motioned to the dismal air, "There's a storm brewing, Pan," he droned, "and you know what _that_ means, I trust?"

The boy laughed, hovering mockingly over the man's head, his voice carrying the hint of laughter, "Only that we might get a little wet, Captain."

Hook chuckled deeply, "Aye, _boy_. _Wet…_with_ blood._"

He lunged at the boy, a vicious snarl escaping his throat.

Peter laughed that mocking laugh as he turned to make his aerial escape, but the sky, which had long been his sanctuary, held no safe place for him this day. Instead of landing back onto the deck as he should have, Hook continued upwards, and Peter cried out as his ankle was grasped in the Captain's iron grip.

Words failed the boy as Hook jerked him closer to his death. The pirate's eyes were by now entirely red as he rose above the petrified child like a viper ready to spring upon a helpless rodent. Never before had James Hook felt such joy as he did now, such power coursing through his being. He savored the look of terror in Pan's eyes as he raised the very grizzly instrument that had been so graciously bestowed upon him by the whelp himself.

Hook's laughter was amplified across all of Neverland this time, as if letting the entire land know what was about to happen the its leader. He raised the iron claw slowly above him.

_"Thus perished... PETER PAN!"  
_  
The words repeated over and over in his own head as he brought his hook down upon the boy's chest. However, right before he could enjoy the satisfying sound of metal penetrating flesh and bone, the image of Pan's horror-stricken face began to fade before him.

Captain Hook winced at the shrill crowing in his ears then opened his eyes to find himself staring at the ceiling of his cabin and drenched in a cold sweat.

Quickly coming into focus with cruel reality, Captain Hook groaned, "Peter Pan…" he spat, as if disgusted by the taste the boy's name left in his mouth.

Hook sprang from the silken sheets of his bed and put on his many layers of clothing at an impossible speed, hastily splashing water onto his face from the washbowl on the mahogany table set across from the foot of his bed. He stormed out of his cabin, gripping his sword so tightly that his knuckles turned white beneath his purple glove.

"Ready Long Tom, you _dogs_! And blast that accursed boy to kingdom come!"

The crew of the Jolly Roger bounded across the deck, not hesitating a moment at their Captain's orders.

"I'm not exactly sure where kingdom come is," Peter Pan laughed, hovering just barely out of Hook's reach, "but it'll take more than the likes of you to blast me there, _Captain Kipper_!"

"Gall and brimstone!" Hook clawed at him angrily, "Your day will come soon, Pan! By Queen Anne's Revenge, I swear it will!"

Peter Pan chuckled playfully, taking a reclining position in the air, "You shouldn't swear to promises you can't keep, Admiral Anchovy. Not proper form, you know!"

"I'll show you proper form, you puerile little urchin! FIRE!"

Billy Jukes lit Long Tom's fuse, and the cannon fired just barely missing Pan's head as he ducked at the last second.

"Reload, Mr. Jukes, and SHOOT ME THAT WRETCHED WHELP!"

"There 'e goes, Jukes!" Mason bellowed, pushing Long Tom around with little effort at all. He grabbed the torch from the young gunner before he could protest and lit the fuse.

"NO, Alf Mason!" Jukes cried, "It's aimed right at—"

Splinters of wood darted over the ship as the mast crashed to the deck, crushing several barrels as it landed.

"Have fun cleaning _that_ up, Codfish!" Peter laughed as he flew toward the shore and out of sight.

Hook snarled, burying his sword furiously in the fallen mainmast then glancing over to his crew, who were staring at where Peter had gone, "You miserable mullie-morts! Fix that mast before I plunge this into your gizzards!" he flashed his hook toward them, and his men scattered and obeyed immediately, knowing better than to upset the captain when he was in such a foul mood.

"Aye, Pan," Hook hissed, plucking his sword from the mast as if it were nothing more than a flower petal, "it matters not how many times you escape me. It will make it all the sweeter when I finally rend you in two."

* * *

"Ha ha haa! Did you see the look on their _faces_, Tink?" Peter Pan darted in and out of the narrow spaces between the trees of the thick Neverforest, "I thought Hook was gonna _explode_! His face turned _three _shades of purple when that mast fell!"

"Sure, Peter," Tinkerbell yawned, lagging behind him a bit, "I just want to get back home and go to bed. We've been up all night."

"Go to _bed_? But, _Tink_, we're just getting started! I've got so many more pranks to pull on ol' Codfish today, and I need you for all of them!"

"Tin tops and copper bottoms, Peter! Don't you think knocking down the mast is enough for one day?"

Peter laughed as if what Tink had just said was the most absurd thing he had ever heard, "Of _course_ not, Tink! You know we can't let Codfish go the whole rest of the day without so much as a few more inconveniences!" Peter sped up, quickly disappearing into the trees, "Now let's go! We don't have much time!"

Tink sighed, "_Peter!_ …oh! That boy will be my undoing!"

By noon, the Jolly Roger was almost completely repaired, mostly due to Hook's threat of sixty lashes to anyone caught lollygagging. Hook now patrolled the deck, a predatory glint in his forget-me-not eyes.

"Robert Mullins!" he called up to the newly erected crow's nest, "Any sign of those air-born blighters?"

"None yet, Cap'n!" Mullins answered, "that island's been as still as the waters of the Pacific! Suspicious, I'd say!"

"Aye," Hook stroked his chin in thought, "I just _know_ they're up to something. I can feel it in my hook."

* * *

"Peter, this is ridiculous!" Tink complained through a yawn, "I do _not_ want to do this!"

"Oh, come on, Tink! It'll be easy!" Peter handed her a tiny blue sack only about the size of a ping-pong ball, "All you have to do is drop these into Hook's supper! Just a few of these will make even the most appetizing food taste like _pond scum_."

"That isn't nice, Peter Pan!" Wendy scolded as she entered the room, "Not nice at _all_!"

"Oh come on, Wendy," Peter replied cheerfully, "since when was I ever nice to Hook?"

"What if those things made Captain Hook sick?" she said, hands on her hips, "Then he wouldn't feel like fighting with you any more."

"Oh, they won't make him sick," he chuckled, "At least, not for any longer than a few hours. Besides, a little stomach ache never hurt anybody that bad."

"Well you had best be careful. You could never forgive yourself if something happened to Tink… or to Hook, for that matter."

"Hook?" Peter chuckled, "Why should I care what happens to _Hook_?"

"Oh, admit it, Peter. You don't really want anything _that_ bad to happen to him. Then who would you fight?"

"That's true," he said thoughtfully, "If I'm going to kill Hook, there are much more fun ways to do it than by poisoning him."

Wendy sighed, rolling her eyes, but she decided against pressing the matter further.

"Besides," Peter explained plucking one of the tiny green balls from Tink's pouch, "these aren't poisonous; it's only filled with Neverswamp water."

Tink sighed, "If I do this, can I _please_ go to bed?"

"Of course, Tink," Peter said apathetically.

"Fine, then. I'm going," Tink said quickly as she tied the bag shut and flew hastily from the Underground House.

* * *

Tinkerbell peeked from over the side of the Jolly Roger to the scattering of pirates on board. Mullins and Mason were reclined in coils of rope, Billy Jukes lied fast asleep on his stomach atop Long Tom, and Starkey sat at the other end of the ship, lazily picking at his fingernails with the tip of his rapier.

"Alright," she yawned, "now to get this over with so I can get some _sleep_."

She took one last glance across the deck then darted through the rigging and down to the hatch that led below, peeking through a crack between the planks of wood. Cookson's voice echoed through the hall beneath her as Tink spotted him carrying a large bowl of scraps up the stairs from the galley. She quickly darted behind a barrel just as the old Greek sea chef hobbled out the door singing something badly at the top of his lungs, Tink couldn't tell exactly what. As soon as she was sure he was far enough away, she fluttered below decks and into the galley.

She began rummaging through the numerous pots and pans strewn across the counter, first coming to a large pot filled to the brim with something viscous and green. The thick film that had formed on the top made it look very much like the scales of the Croc. Tink took a great whiff of the substance and retched.

"Ugh! That's definitely the crew's food. How anyone can stomach this filth every day is beyond me!"

Tink quickly placed the lid back over the offending contents and continued exploring the other pots and pans, coming across several other undesirable dishes, until she came upon another pot of soup. This soup was a creamy, almost white color, and its smell was relatively tolerable compared to the other dishes.

"This _has_ to be Hook's supper; it at least bears a _resemblance_ to food."

But before Tink could finish the job, she heard the creaking of heavy footsteps coming down the stairs and Cookson's off-key singing.

She yelped and ducked into a large, empty cabinet that sat on the floor next to the counter, "I'll _never_ get out of here _now_!"

She sat for a moment, her head resting in the palms of her hands, "Great… how will I—OH!" she sat up with a start and plunged her hand into the bag she carried at her side, a puff of glittery powder floating from the brim, and retrieved a handful of the shimmering particles, "I almost forgot about the special dust I got at Small Monday Island yesterday!"

She tossed the purple and blue dust in front of her, and it sparkled in the dark cabinet, then glistened white and grew into a small, round opening in thin air just big enough for her to fit into. Daylight shone in from the other side.

"Peter will have to come up with some other prank," Tink mumbled, "I'm going home and getting some _rest_."


	2. Chapter 2

Tink stumbled a bit as she emerged from the other side of the portal, "Phew! _Peter,_ I _told_ you this wasn't a good i-"

She stopped in mid sentence when she was faced with, not the cozy quarters of the Underground House, but a dense forest that she knew she had never seen before in her life.

"Wh- _what kind of dust is this?"_ she held the sack of dust in front of her, giving it a look of contempt, "what good is it if it takes me to some place I've never even _seen?"_

She crossed her arms irately, fuming for a moment then sighed, "Well… at least I won't have to listen to that horrible singing anymore," she said fluttering from the portal, and onto a nearby tree branch, "so much for my _nap_."

She examined her surroundings from her new position. Tall maples and evergreens shaded the fern-covered forest floor, and a recently fallen oak rested across a patch of saplings to her left, the small trees straining to hold the large trunk. Compared to the forests Tink was used to, this one was nothing to be awed over. To a human, it might have seemed beautiful, but to a fairy, it was nothing special.

"Hmm…well _this_ definitely isn't Neverland," she glanced back at the portal, for a moment, "Ah, well… I suppose I'll just explore a little until Cookson's gone," she fluttered deeper into the forest, "there don't seem to be any humans around, and the portal will be there when I get back."

"En guard, fiend!"

Peter slashed at Nibs with his wooden sword, barely missing the Lost Boy's head.

Wendy caught herself staring at the fireplace, and quickly looked up to where the Lost Boys were squabbling, "Tink's been gone for a very long time, Peter," she reminded him, breaking the thread from one of Michael's socks that she had been sewing.

Peter turned to her just as Curly charged him, "Tink? Where has she gone to, anyway?"

Wendy sighed deeply, amazed at Peter's forgetfulness, "She _went_ to help you pull _your prank_, Peter."

"Oh! That's _right!_ Don't worry, Wendy!" Peter reassured her as his palm collided with Curly's forehead, leaving him to punch and claw at the air between them for a moment, then shoving him back to the dusty ground of the Underground House, "She's probably just making Hook's soup _extra_ disgusting."

"I slightly doubt that, Peter," Slightly spoke up as he darted at him with his wooden sword, "Tink was more than slightly tired; she really wanted to get it over with and get to bed."

"Oh, she'll be fine!" Peter insisted, casually knocking Slightly over after dodging his attack, "What could _possibly_ happen?"

Tinkerbell perched temporarily on a tree branch for a brief respite. Her exhaustion was beginning to become apparent as she could barely keep her eyes open, "Oh, Peter! You are going to be _sorry_ for this! If I ever get back, that is."

She had gone back to the portal several times since she had first left the Jolly Roger only to find Cookson still in the way.

'How that old pirate can stand to be in that disgusting room for so long is beyond me,' Tink thought.

She was sorely tempted to lie down and take her nap right on the rough bark of the branch she was perched on. This would have been against her better judgment, of course; a fairy with any sense knew that you should never fall asleep in an unfamiliar part of the forest, no matter how tired one becomes. However, this internal conflict was thrown aside when she heard the faint sound of voices.

"Finally!" she sprung up from the tree branch, forgetting her previous fatigue, and flew in the direction of the sound, "Maybe I can at least find out where I am."

She flitted to one of the trees that lined the edge of a small clearing, where five humans, all girls...or possibly women, sat around a small bonfire. Behind them stood a large tent, a rather strange looking one in Tink's opinion. It wasn't at all like the Indian teepees back in Neverland.

"Oh, _that's_ a pretty color, Ashley," one girl spoke to another. There wasn't a real way for Tink to tell the two apart, as all humans look mostly alike to a fairy.

"Yeaaah…I think I like the pink a bit more; red lipstick doesn't really work for me."

Whatever these girls were discussing was apparently out of the book one of them held in their lap, as they were examining the pages intently. And a very strange book it was, as it was one of the thinnest books Tink had ever seen, and it didn't even seem to have a cover.

"What do you guys think of Tom Cruise?" a third girl piped in.

"He's cute I guess," the Ashley girl answered, "He's a bit too crazy for my taste, though."

"Shut UP! Are you KIDDING? Tom Cruise is _hot!_ Who _cares_ if he's crazy?" said the second one.

The third girl scoffed, "Wow, Veronica, _that's _a great philosophy to live by…"

"It is if the guys hot, _Denise_."

Denise looked back down at the "coverless book" she was holding, "I was more of a Brad Pitt type of girl myself."

Tink cocked her head in confusion, 'What _are_ these silly humans _talking_ about?'

Denise glanced where another two girls sat a small distance away. Her stare was directed at the one furthest from her, who seemed a little disconnected and was busying herself by scribbling something on a piece of paper. This girl was easier to tell apart from the others simply for the fact that she wore thick, black glasses, "You've been pretty quiet, Riley. What do you think?"

Riley, who had obviously not been listening to the conversation, didn't even look up, but simply breathed a soft "huh?".

"You like Tom Cruise?" she repeated.

"Not really. He kind of annoys me."

Veronica gave her a skeptical look, "Come _on_, spill it. We know you've had a celebrity crush before."

"Weeeell…I doubt any of them would be your type…" she continued her sketching.

The girl that had been sitting quietly beside Riley shrugged, "Try us."

Riley sighed, "I had a thing for Alan Rickman back in the day."

Veronica laughed out loud, "A bit old for you, don't ya think?"

"Well, it's not like I'd actually _marry_ someone that much older than me!" she said defensively, "I just went through this long phase when I was younger where I really liked older guys. I've gotten crushes on younger guys too. Not that any of you would care for them either."

'Besides,' she thought, 'Both Tom Cruise and Brad Pitt are too old for you too.'

"Well, speaking of someone younger," Veronica interjected, "I've got a hot cousin you might like who's way into really curvy girls like you."

"Ok, _one:_ please _don't_, and two: you're really calling your own cousin _"hot"_?

"Hey, I'm just sayin'…"

The first three girls went back to their discussion, but Liz leaned toward Riley, and spoke silently so that only the two of them could hear. Tink, being her oftentimes nosy self, flew in closer so she could hear them.

"What are you drawing?"

This time, Riley actually looked up at the girl. It was apparent that she was a bit closer with this girl than the others.

"Just some sketches for some book illustrations. There's a job offer at one of the book firms for an illustrator, and I'm really hoping to get it," she rolled her eyes, "It's just…this whole printing job is starting to get to me. I want to do some stuff of my own instead of sorting other people's PDFs."

There were a few more seconds of silence, as Liz seemed to be struggling to say something

She sighed, "Listen, I'm sorry I dragged you along with me. But how would _you_ like being alone for a whole weekend with them?"

"Eh…it's alright. They're not _horrible_ or anything, but at least we should be able to do something besides talk about makeup and celebrity gossip while we're out here."

"Well," Liz shrugged, "what can you say about sorority sisters? It's what they do…"

"How about we do some hiking?" Riley said, this time loud enough for the others to hear.

"But," Veronica interrupted, "I was going to see if any of you were interested in my makeup. I brought all of my Mary Kay."

"Thanks, but no thanks," she declined, standing to make her way to one of the carved out forest trails, "you guys will have a lot more fun with that without me. I'll just go for a short hike."

She quickly folded up the sheet of paper she had been scribbling on and pocketed it along with her pencil, then headed into the woods.

Deciding that the girls were too absorbed in their activities to notice her, and that they were of no real threat if they _did_ find her, Tink lied down to sleep on the branch she sat on.

"Just for a moment," she told herself with a yawn, "just to rest my eyes."

* * *

Riley paced through the forest, pushing twigs and branches aside as she went. This was turning out to be a lousy camping trip. Of course, camping wasn't at the very top of her list of fun things to do, but she had expected that when the members of Sigma Delta Tau had told her they were going camping that they would actually… well… _camp_.

'Oh, well,' she reasoned to herself, 'It's just a one time thing. It's not like I was even thinking of joining _any_ sorority anyway.'

She and Liz had been _fairly_ good friends, but she wasn't about to join a sorority no matter how much she wanted her to. She had only come on this particular outing so that Liz wouldn't have to handle the overload of estrogen on her own.

Riley kicked a small stone in her path and watched it skip and spin across the forest floor. She couldn't help feeling a little guilty for leaving Liz alone with them, but there was only so much one could take.

Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted just as she pushed aside a tree branch that had obstructed her path. She stopped there for a second and squinted into the distance. Just barely noticeable from where she was standing was a dark, circular object that seemed to hang in the air about thirty feet away from her. She cocked her head in confusion, pushing the branch past her and approaching the unrecognizable object curiously.

As she got closer, she could make out a faint, white glow around the darkness, and as she had perceived from further away, it was literally a floating, black circle.

"Ok, I don't think _that_ was in the wilderness manual," Riley whispered, as she circled the circle.

She was _almost_ certain that it was smoke that made up the black hole, but what caused the light around the brim remained a mystery. There was a bottomlessness to it that she couldn't quite put her finger on, and it wasn't long before she noticed the heightened silence that surrounded the area. This was certainly not a natural occurrence.

Riley glanced around her and picked up one of the small, smooth pebbles that littered the dirt trail. She tossed it up and down in her hand for a moment, then knelt down to the smoky mass and pitched it into the blackness. She jumped when the stone made a clattering sound as if it had been thrown into a small cave, disappearing into the shadows.

Riley leaned closer, peering into the strange form, though it was hopeless to see anything other than the impossible blackness. Looking behind it, there was no pebble to be seen.

For a brief moment, she thought back on the extra-terrestrial specials she had occasionally watched on the Discovery Channel. This was one of those thoughts that one entertained jokingly, but seriously considered deep down on a subconscious level. She raised her hand toward the void cautiously and slowly eased it into the blackness.

She gasped and nearly fell backwards when the circle suddenly moved. She crawled backwards for fear she might be sucked into the black nothingness as it began to grow. It wasn't until it gapped large enough for a grown person to crawl through that the sudden growth ebbed to an end.

She stood slowly, not taking her eyes off of the gaping hole. Certainly the thought crossed her mind of how foolish it would be to actually enter a black hole one happened upon in the woods…or _anywhere _for that matter. There was no telling where it led to, but she hadn't lost her hand when she inserted it, and if she didn't check it out now she knew she'd be kicking herself later. So Riley took a deep breath and entered.

The "bottomless hole" quickly lost its mystique when she was abruptly met with a wall. She hardly had time to worry over her bumped head when the wall, or rather, the _door_ creaked open to reveal an old, kitchen-like room. She stood from the cabinet slowly.

Pots and pans hid the stove and counter, and piles of potatoes and other vegetables were scattered over the floor. When she removed the lid to a pot that sat over one of the eyes she immediately regretted it. She gagged on the noxious odor, and stumbled backwards in a coughing fit, nearly tripping over a barrel.

"Gees, whoever owns this kitchen hasn't cleaned in decades!" she carefully avoided stepping on any of the food stuffs with a bit of difficulty, "I thought wyrm holes were supposed to go to _majestic_ places."

She quickly decided she should get out of the room before someone caught her (or before she died of the fumes). She slowly cracked open the door, wincing as it creaked a bit louder than she would have liked, and found that it went to a long, wood-framed hallway. She slowly began to realize that the entire structure was swaying, making her certain that she was on a rather old ship.

'A little more understandable than an old kitchen,' she supposed.

As she neared the other end of the hallway, she could make out an opening in the ceiling that shone a beam of light from outside, illuminating the wooden stairs below it. She could hear the sound of waves as she neared the opening and crept slowly to the foot of the steps, hoping to take a look at what or who was on deck, but all she could make out was the mainmast and a bit of rigging.

Just as she had taken her first step up the stairs, she almost lost her footing when a small, pinkish light zipped past her and out the hatchway. She quickly caught her breath, but when she directed her sight back to the hatchway, she froze. She was suddenly face to face with a dark skinned boy, no older than about fifteen or sixteen.

The two stared wide eyed at each other for a few seconds. Riley struggled to speak, to give some explanation for her presence, but she would have no time to. Just as she noticed the skull and crossbones flag that flew at the top of the mainmast, a rather rough looking man appeared beside the boy, and without pause, glowered at her and growled.

"_Ahoy! Stowaway!_"

Riley's stomach leapt into her mouth, and without another thought, she shot for the galley as fast as her legs could carry her.

"There's a stowaway on board, maties!" she could hear the man from behind her, "Hurry, ya _dogs_!"

She heard the rumble of footsteps in the hallway, and she tripped over several pots and pans and vegetable piles before diving into the cabinet. But instead of landing on a leafy forest floor, she hit her head on the wooden back panel.

"What?" she squeaked, "Where's the _hole_?"

Having no time to panic, she quickly pulled the door closed and huddled up in the corner. She was dead for sure. How _stupid_ could she have been to go into a supernatural hole she found in the woods?

The door to the galley opened loudly, and several pairs of footsteps could be heard storming into the room.

"Yeh see 'em, maties?' said one deep voice.

"No… I should say they're hiding here somewhere," said a higher pitched voice.

"Come out, come out, wherever yeh be!" came an Irish accented voice. This voice echoed as he had apparently picked up one of the many pots and was calling into it.

Riley covered her mouth and nose with one hand and attempted to calm her breathing. After several seconds of silence, she thought that maybe they were giving up, but that fleeting hope was replaced with fear as the door to her cabinet swung open.


	3. Chapter 3

Riley's breath hitched in her chest as she was met with the sneering face of the pirate who had first announced her presence. He smiled a gap toothed grimace with a malicious cackle.

"Weeell, looky here, maties, hehehe…it's a _wench_!"

Riley was too frightened to be insulted by the derogatory term; without another thought, she dove between the man's legs and bolted into the hallway.

"_'Ay!_ Yeh _little-_ there she goes, _dogs_!" he growled, "_Get 'er_!"

She almost tripped over the steps of the ladder and nearly face planted to the ground when she sprang out of the open hatch. She fumbled about for a moment, not knowing where to go until she realized that the ship was anchored in the bay of a small island. She immediately headed for the side. After knocking over several empty barrels, leaping (and tripping) over coils of rope, she reached the railing. One leg was already over the ship's railing when she happened to glance down to see the gaping jaws of one leviathan of a crocodile.

Riley froze as the reptile snapped its jaws and releasing a low, growling hiss. When her limbs were capable of movement again, she backed away cautiously, then turned to run to the other side in hopes that there was some sort of lifeboat.

Sadly, she would never make it to find out. All she knew was confusion as she found her face buried in a hard mass of fabric, and it took her a few seconds to register that what she had run into was actually alive. She was reluctant to look up, but she wasn't given a choice. An involuntary gasp escaped her as she felt something cold and hard under her chin. Whatever this object was forced her head up to meet icy blue eyes and a sly, toothy grin.

"_Well_ ," the man spoke with a deep, mockingly sweet voice, "what, pray tell, do we have _here_?"

Riley quickly backed away from the intimidating man. He towered head and shoulders above even the largest of his crewmen; he had to have been close to eight feet tall, at _least_ over seven, and his limbs alone were the width of fairly well sized tree trunks. Riley had never in her life seen a man _this large_.

It was clear that he was the captain of the ship, and it didn't take the billowing blue and red cape and captain's hat to come to that conclusion. He carried himself in an imperial manner, and most of the other pirates recoiled at his gaze. He stared at her with a rather charming grin, but something about it was dangerous. Venomous.

She muffled a yelp as he backed her into a barrel, and in seconds, she was surrounded by glaring, sword-wielding pirates.

The one that had first found her, Robert Mullins, rubbed his thumb up and down the blade of his cutlass, "A stowaway, Cap'n! Found 'er in the cabinet down in the galley! Quick little devil evaded us and tried ta jump ship!"

"She tried to run fer it, Cap'n," the Irishman, Mr. Smee, added. Riley briefly wondered whether the man was hard of hearing or if he was just a bit stupid.

"Is that so?" the captain purred, sauntering up to her to, once again, close the remaining distance between them.

That's when Riley noticed the iron hook that capped off the stump of his right forearm as he raised the appendage to her cheek, stroking it in a most affectionate manner. He spoke quite calmly, but it was just as unnerving as if he were snarling.

"Do you know what happens to stowaways on board the Jolly Roger, my dear?"

His voice rumbled deep within his chest, and Riley fidgeted, her cheeks flushed whether from fear, embarrassment, or just from how close the captain's face now was to hers. She bit the inside of her jaw to keep it from shaking as she attempted to conjure an explanation, "Mm…they're, uh…given a warm welcome and aren't chopped to tiny pieces?"

His eyes bore into her, making her feel no more than three inches tall, and he chuckled darkly, sending cold chills down her spine.

"Not _quite_, my dear."

He grinned roguishly, clearly taking pleasure in her unease, then stood up to his full, impressive height, "But _perhaps_… since I do find you amusing and since you _are_ a lady we can make an exception…for the time being," he removed his hat and made a show of bowing deeply, "Captain James Hook, at your service, my lady."

Riley's expression didn't change, "Oh…" she muttered rather stupidly.

"_And_…" he purred, "you are?"

"Oh!" she snapped out of her haze, "R-Riley…Sparks."

"_Sparks_," Hook repeated, almost as if testing its quality. He stroked his chin with a sideways downward glance at her, "Miss Sparks…I shall require your presence in my cabin. Come."

"But, Cap'n!" interrupted Mullins, "Never _was_ luck on a pirate ship with a _woman_ on board! With her here, Pan will surely tear the place apart!"

Riley was about to roll her eyes at this, but they widened when Hook caught Mullins's collar with his hook. With no effort at all, Hook lifted him up a good two feet off of the ground to come face to face with him.

"Why! You useless, superstitious Brooklyn broom bandit! Only fools believe that sort of _tripe_!" he tossed the pirate aside and leered down at Riley with a smile that was intended to be sincere, "A lady is just what this hovel of a ship needs."

Riley secretly contemplated this statement, wondering about its intended meaning.

"Cookson! Bring tea and scones to my cabin," Hook offered Riley his arm, "Come, my dear."

She glanced up at him from over her glasses. His smile certainly oozed charm but was also clearly full of mischief. However, being surrounded by vicious pirates, she saw that she had no other choice but to comply. She cautiously wrapped her arm around the massive girth of his own and followed him, taking a glance back at the others and receiving a warning glare from Mullins.

She clenched her teeth together as she looked back up at the captain. What had she gotten herself into?

* * *

Riley had to walk twice as fast as she normally would to keep up with Hook's long strides. He led her to a pair of large, gold-framed double doors just beneath the helm, which he opened and gallantly offered for her to enter ahead of him. She wandered in casually, observing the luxurious contents of the room.

A large desk sat to her right next to the door where several gold and silver trinkets lined the attached shelves. Two maps sat upon the desk, one seeming to be a map of ocean currents and the other of an island, she assumed the one she had seen while out on deck. She also noticed a large, open book, probably the ship's log, and noted that the visible entries were all signed in elegantly formed cursive: _Captain Jas. Hook_. Next to the window was a large, lavish bed with a red velvet comforter, and perched on the foot board was a rather large and rather ugly parrot with an eye patch. The parrot had immediately begun squawking various piratical phrases when Hook opened the door, cocking its head and eyeing Riley curiously. Books lined every shelf of the large cabin, all of them worn, clearly having been put to good use. And against the back wall in the very center was a large, wooden harpsichord with golden pipes that arched into the shape of a hook.

"Impressive, is it not?" Riley nearly jumped at the captain's voice directly behind her.

She expressed her slight annoyance at this by actively hiding her marvel and replying with an unenthusiastic, "sure." Hook, of course, noticed this and deliberately startled her again when she felt his hand nudge the small of her back as he politely directed her to an ornate Victorian sofa that sat against the window across from to his bed. After Cookson had brought by the requested tea and scones, Hook shut and locked the door behind him, which, needless to say, only added to Riley's discomfort. She fidgeted under his gaze as he turned to study her inquisitively; she tried to keep her eyes on his but found it impossibly uncomfortable and averted her gaze.

"Miss Sparks…" he finally spoke handing her a cup of tea from the tray Cookson had brought by and offering her one of the tiny biscuits, "it _is 'miss'_, isn't it?"

Riley nodded, "Yeah," she answered, inspecting the scone curiously, "but you can just call me Riley, if you want."

"_Oh_, no, _no_, my dear," Hook chuckled in a way that could have been construed as condescending, though she didn't know if that was how he had intended it, "It would be entirely unbecoming of a gentleman such as myself to call a lady by her first name. _Especially_ when we have not yet been properly _acquainted_."

Riley squirmed in her seat again, "Oh…um…O.K."

"_So_," he continued, seating himself in a chair that matched the sofa in which she was seated, "How _exactly_ did you happen to find yourself aboard my ship?"

Riley furrowed her eyebrows and pursed her lips at the thought of how stupid she was going to sound when she told him that she had gotten there through a hole in the air in the middle of the woods. She wrung her hands nervously.

"Fear not, dear girl," he coaxed gently. This time his voice sounded a bit more sincere, which helped her discomfort, if only a little, "I'll not harm you."

She sighed, "I'm just trying to think of a way to tell you that won't sound ridiculous," she scratched the side of her neck nervously, "_basically_ I was walking in the woods near mine and my friends' campsite. I happened upon this…hole."

"Hole?" he arched an eyebrow.

"Ya know, like a…portal…or a wyrm hole or something."

"A wyrm hole," he stroked his strong jaw thoughtfully.

"Yeah…and for _some_ stupid reason, I thought it was a good idea to check it out. Then I ended up in that kitchen cabinet."

The captain's intense, icy eyes bore into her in silence.

"I know it sounds totally stupid," she glanced down at the floor.

Hook watched her for a moment. She was _clearly _not from anywhere in Neverland, and she was probably even more confused about her situation than he was. But her appearance was off-putting to him. He had encountered women wearing men's clothing before. He greatly disapproved, to be honest. He had never understood why any woman would want to deny her God given gender so much as to behave as a man. Though none in his experience seemed quite so odd as hers. The trousers she wore seemed greatly oversized, and they had pockets in places that just didn't make sense or seem functional at all. He also took note of the strange symbol on her shirt, three triangles that composed a single larger one with a geometric shape beneath it that resembled a bird's outstretched wings. Perhaps it was some family emblem, but it was one unlike any he had ever seen.

"Mystic things happen around this cursed island every day, my dear," he finally replied, "but not without _some_ kind of purpose. Was there anything _else_ of suspicion?"

"Well… I remember a little pink light flying toward me when I was coming out of the galley; that was when that kid found me… but that's all."

"_Tinkerbell_," Hook said to himself, "_just_ as I had perceived."

"_Tinkerbell_?" she repeated suspiciously, "So… you're seriously _THE_ Captain Hook?"

Hook's icy eyes lit with pride, "I see that my reputation precedes me," he stood, "The most feared pirate to _ever_ sail the Spanish Main," he boasted with a bow, reaching over to take her hand, "in the flesh and steel," and he kneeled before her raising her hand to his lips and placing a kiss on the back of it.

"It…certainly does…" Riley squeaked. She again found it impossible to keep his gaze as she knew she was blushing much more deeply than she would have liked.

"Tell me, Miss Sparks," he said, still refusing to surrender her hand back to her, "where are you from? Not here, I would assume?"

She tried to hide her discomfort, but she couldn't help continuously glancing down at their hands. There was no way he couldn't have noticed, but he didn't show it if he did.

"Alpharetta, Georgia," she answered softly.

"Georgia," he repeated, "You are from the States?"

"Yeah…"

There was a subtle change in his expression that she couldn't quite place, "I see."

He finally released her hand and stood, reaching over to take a sip of his tea, "Well… seeing as you will most likely be staying in Neverland for quite some time, you will stay on board the Jolly Roger," he smiled tenderly down at her, "Not to worry, though, my dear. You will be treated as a lady, and be given a room worthy of such."

Riley had to bite her tongue to hold back a groan, 'I should have known…'

Hook turned his empty teacup over and sat it on its coaster, and he quickly noted that Riley's teacup was still practically full. He cleared his throat, pretending to not be offended. 'No matter,' he reasoned, 'I do tend to forget how deficient Cookson's tea is.' He quickly shook the thought.

"Also on that note," he continued, "I _do_ so _hope_ that you will join me here in my cabin for supper."

She nodded slowly, "Sure."

"Superb," he was about to extend a hand to help her up, but he stopped, "Ah! I almost forgot."

He quickly turned to a chest that sat against the wall beside his bed. He retrieved a key from inside his coat and unlocked the large, golden lock, raising the lid and rummaging through its contents. Riley watched him curiously as he would lift one of the garments from inside to examine it then toss it back to look at another.

Finally, he seemed to have found what he was looking for, and he turned back to Riley holding up the pinkest, frilliest dress Riley had ever seen. She had to force back an even bigger groan.

"You may wear this during your stay here, Miss Sparks; you needn't resort to wearing trousers when I have _so_ many dresses here that you are welcome to wear," he handed her the dress with a grin that suggested that he thought he was doing her a huge service.

"Erm… you really don't have to do that, I mean… I'm sure it's really…" she glanced down at the pink mass, "expensive, and I can just wear what I have on."

"Oh, no, I insist, my dear. I couldn't have you wear men's clothing when I have garments much more fitting."

She scrunched her nose at the _intended_ compliment, and he took her hand once again and pulled her to stand.

"_SMEE!"_

Riley flinched at the sudden outburst right at her ear, and Smee appeared at the door almost before her reaction of surprise was over, saluting the captain with the eagerness of a puppy ready for a walk.

"Mr. Smee," Hook ordered the small man, "take Miss Sparks to the cabin in the fo'c'sle and be sure that everything is to her liking."

He nudged Riley to follow Smee, "Oh! And do be so kind, Smee, as to help the lady with her corset."

This time Riley didn't hold back her groan, but Hook had already shut the door, and Smee didn't seem to notice.

"Well, lassie," Smee said cheerfully, "shall we, then?"


	4. Chapter 4

"Begorra, missy, but the cap'n seems happier than a leprechaun with a pot o' gold this ev'nin'."

Smee was now trying out the fifth of the ring of keys he carried, jabbing it into the keyhole, wriggling it about, then moving on to the next when it didn't fit.

Riley scoffed under her breath, leaning against the doorframe next to Smee as he tried key number six, "Yeah, I'll _bet_ he is."

"Oh! Aye! Th' 'ole crew seems teh be in 'igh spirits as a matter o' fact," he grinned deliriously, his childish eyes beaming, "Mason even offered ta show yeh 'round the crew's sleepin' quarters, 'e did…"

Smee trailed off after trying another unsuccessful key, and Riley clenched her teeth at the previous bit of information, "Greeeaaaat…"

"'Cept fer Mullins…" he babbled on, "'e seems a tad restless lately. Don't seem teh wanna put down 'is sword fer nothin', neither."

She chuckled nervously, "… really?"

"Aye!"

There was then a click as he was at last successful with key number nine.

"Ah! There we be!" Smee finally pulled the door open, motioning for Riley to enter.

She had expected to find a somewhat empty room with nothing more than perhaps a small cot. So she was pleasantly surprised to find that it was quite generously stocked. The bed was fairly large, actually, though not quite the size of Hook's, and there was a small chest of drawers.

'Undoubtedly full of more dresses…' Riley thought as one corner of her mouth curled upward skeptically.

There was also a small shelf of books, all as worn as the ones in Hook's cabin, and a single large window that let in the light of the brilliant Neverland sun.

Smee cleared his throat, "Well, then, lass, just yeh go behind the partition there and get into yer petticoat."

She jerked her head back toward him, "_Petticoat_?"

"That there white one, lass," Smee explained, adjusting his spectacles with a grin.

Riley looked down at the bundle she carried, and after shuffling it about, realized there was indeed a white petticoat trapped in the expanse of pink fabric.

"Oh…" she dumped the dress unceremoniously to the floor taking said petticoat and stepping behind the partition.

'Wish I could wear just this instead of that other thing,' she thought as she slipped the white undergarment over her head.

"Yeh ready there, then, lassy?" Smee called from the other side of the wall.

She sighed, "Sure…"

Riley gasped, then immediately regretted it. For such a small and feeble looking man, Smee was strong. She worried that the laces would snap each time he tugged on them. How they weren't cutting into his fingers enough to draw blood, Riley didn't know.

"There," Smee said, scratching his head, "I hope that's tight enough. Alrighty, then, lass. Would there be anythin' else I could get fer ye?"

Riley squirmed, attempting to resume a position that made it less difficult to breath, "Nope… I'm good," she tried to use the least amount of words possible as more air was sucked out of her with each one.

"Cookson'll tell yeh when the cap'n's ready for yeh," Smee assured, "Goodbye, then, missy."

"Bye," she squeaked.

She turned back to the pink heap on the floor, eyeing it with a bit of disgust. She picked it up by a lacy sleeve and held it up in front of her. To think people were actually expected to go out in public wearing this. She wrestled with the dress, her corset making it even more difficult than it would have been.

"How do you even put this thing _on_?" she growled in frustration, spreading apart section by section of fabric in attempts to find the hole to slip over her head but finding none.

This fueled her irritation at Hook.

"_Lovely_," she sneered aloud to herself, "Not only do I have to look like an _idiot_; I lose the privilege of breathing _too_?"

By some miracle, she at last found her way into the overly-complicated garment; not that she was thankful for it, of course. She looked into the mirror fixed into one of the sections of the partition in the corner.

"Yeah…" Riley continued her one sided conversation, her annoyance at Hook growing nearly to anger, "I'm gonna let him know _exactly_ how much I appreciate _this_."

She looked herself up and down and quietly wondered if she might actually glow in the dark. The neck line dipped quite a ways down, showing a bit more cleavage than she liked, and the skirt of the dress had to be at least five or six feet in diameter.

"No wonder I needed the corset; there's no way I could ever have squeezed myself into _this_ without one."

Riley jumped abruptly when without so much as a knock, Cookson entered the small cabin.

"Eez dinner time!" he announced then left as quickly as he had appeared.

"Yeah, don't bother _knocking,"_ she mumbled after him. Taking one last look at herself in the mirror, she sighed, "Guess this is as good as it's gonna get."

She ruffled her hair, hoping that would make her look a bit more like herself, then she left for the captain's cabin.

* * *

Riley peaked out of the cabin door before slowly inching onto the foc'sle deck. She took her time in closing the door, more time than she actually needed, then turned and paused before continuing to descend the stairs. She kept her gaze at the ground, but she could hear and feel the men on deck stop what they were doing to watch her come down the staircase to the main deck. She tried to ignore their stares as she turned to look toward the sign over the large double doors that read: _Captain's Quarters_. The muffled sound of music could be heard from inside, she supposed from the harpsichord she had noticed earlier.

She was afraid to go in as she neared the entrance, but she knew she needed to. She _was_ hungry, after all, and the tempting smell of food wafted from inside onto the deck. But more importantly than that, she had to let Hook know her discontent for her current position. She knew she couldn't stand being forced into this dress many more times.

She raised her fist to the door, lowered it, then fidgeted awkwardly for a moment.

'Maybe he'll be alright with letting me work on the ship,' she reassured herself, 'at least with letting me wear my own clothes…maybe.'

Her fist hovered in the air for nearly ten seconds before it finally made contact with the door. Her stomach leapt when she heard the music stop, and after a short pause, she could hear the captain's heavy footsteps get louder as he approached the door. The churning in her stomach was beginning to turn to nausea, and she semi-seriously considered turning tail and running back to her cabin before Hook could open the doors. She wouldn't have had time to do so even if she had decided to, as he was standing before her within only five seconds, although it had seemed much longer.

He flashed her yet another charming, though not so trustworthy smile, "You look _stunning_, my dear," he complimented, taking her hand in his and gently brushing his lips against it.

"Thanks…" she tried to sound flattered instead of embarrassed. She knew she was blushing bright red again.

He guided her to a seat at the end of a table that had been moved to the center of the room, pulling it out for her, and she sat, secretly praying that her dress didn't burst open at the seams. After confirming that she was comfortable, Hook took his own seat at the other end of the table next to where Short Tom sat on his perch.

Mr. Smee, who had, unbeknownst to her, been in the room the entire time, held up the bottle he carried in his hand, "Neverberry wine, miss?" he offered.

Her eyes shifted from the bottle, to Smee, back to the bottle, and then to Hook for a moment before returning to Smee, "I'll pass," she replied, twitching in her seat, trying to resume a position that allowed air into her lungs.

"Oh… eh w-well" Smee stuttered, glancing nervously from her to Hook, who unsuccessfully attempted to hide a look of contempt directed at the unfortunate bosun. "W-would yeh be preferin' rum, then?" Smee persisted, sensing the captain's annoyance that he was not properly satisfying their guest.

Riley heard a muffled, yet still audible groan of disdain come from Hook, and another wave of nausea washed over her as she wondered if he was becoming annoyed with _her_.

Her eyes continued to shift back and forth between Hook and Smee.

"No…" she was barely able to squeeze out the answer. But apparently Hook and Smee had both understood what she had said as Smee paused for a moment, again glancing nervously at Hook.

"_Well?"_ Hook growled at the much smaller man.

"Eh…" Smee babbled, clearly not understanding what Hook wanted from him, "y-yes, Cap'n?"

Riley jumped a good two inches from her seat when Hook's hook made contact with the table in front of him, "Go get some _WATER_ ya clapper-dudgeon-_LUMMOX!"_

Smee nearly dropped the wine bottle with a yelp, "_Aye, aye, sir!_" and he disappeared out the door at a speed that would be thought impossible for someone his age.

_"Go get some water, ya lummox!"_ Short Tom squawked, _"Get some water! Get some water!"_

When Smee was gone, Hook gave Riley a gentle grin, "Do excuse my bosun, Madame. He is quite incompetent at the best of times."

"Er… that's alright…" she said quietly.

"Was the cabin to your liking?"

"Yeah…" she responded simply, turning to the plate of food in front of her and digging in, "it was fine."

Hook furrowed his eyebrows, puzzling over her short answers. He shrugged this off, however; she was probably at a loss for words after her previous plight. She also must have been very hungry to eat any of Cookson's swill as voraciously as she was, so he busied himself with his own food for a moment, allowing her to have a few quiet moments to eat.

He looked up at her occasionally, each time to find her full attention still on her food, and it was starting to wear on his overly sensitive nerves. Was she simply gorging herself to refrain from speaking with him?

Hook stared at her for a moment, expecting her to look up at some point, but she didn't.

"… _ahem_…"

She finally acknowledged him with actual eye contact, though she still chewed a mouthful of potatoes and meat.

"I take it you… _enjoy_ the food?"

She nodded, her mouth still full. The roast was quite dry, and it was doubtful that she would have ever considered putting any of the stuff in her mouth if she weren't so hungry, but she wasn't about to make that known.

Hook raised an eyebrow as she bit into a dinner roll with a loud _crunch_, "First time for everything," he mumbled under his breath.

_"First time for everything! SQUAWK! First time for everything!"_

Hook swatted at his parrot, "_Quiet!_" he whispered through clenched teeth as he handed Short Tom a biscuit to shut him up.

'Belay that, Hook,' he reprimanded himself, 'how could you expect a Yank to have the same upbringing as a British noblewoman?'

"I'm happy to see that the dress fits you," Hook continued, and Riley gave a start at the mention of it, "I had hoped I would have a use for it after I… _acquired_ it from a French merchant vessel. Does it please you?"

Riley choked. She wanted terribly to tell him how much she hated the dress and that she never wanted to lay eyes on it again, but the words wouldn't come out.

In her nervousness, she nodded with a barely audible "yes".

Hook smiled, and Riley mentally kicked herself, 'You _idiot!_ _Why_ didn't you _say_ something?'

She could feel herself starting to sweat as she watched Hook contentedly resume eating, 'You have to say something!' she thought, 'Do you want to wear this stupid dress for as long as you might be here?'

She took a deep breath and forced herself to speak up.

"Actually…"

Hook looked back up at her with a piercing gaze, and her brain froze up again.

"_Actually?_" Hook repeated, urging her to continue.

_"Actually, actually…"_ Short Tom started up again, _"actually!"_

Hook tossed him another biscuit, and Riley gulped, her throat quickly becoming dry. She could feel her face turning red again, "I, uh…"

'Come on, Riley, just say it. What's the worst that could happen?'

"I'd rather wear my own clothes!"

Hook squinted, "Pardon?"

Riley gritted her teeth, "I mean… I… appreciate what you're trying to do for me, but… I think I'd feel better if I could just, ya know… go casual like everyone else…"

She tried to read the expression on Hook's face but couldn't, "And I was _sort_ of hoping I could, like…work for my stay here…if you want—"

"Oh, dear _girl_, you need not feel obligated to repay me for my hospitality," he insisted with a wave of his good hand, "I do not do this because I want something in return, but because it merely pleases me to be of service to a fine young woman in need of assistance," that not quite trustworthy smile crossed his features again, "But if you insist, I'm sure the crew would be grateful if you took over the cooking in the galley."

"Actually, I'm not the best cook…" she chuckled halfheartedly, "but I was thinking something more…pirate…-_ish_. I dunno, whatever it is you guys do."

Hook looked at her as if she had asked him to give her the moon. He chuckled much louder than was necessary, "_You_ want to be a member of the _crew_? _Madam_, a pirate ship is no place for a lady in the first place. I have already gotten objections to your staying here at all. But for a young lady to take up piracy is simply out of the question in my book."

Riley had to bite her lip to keep from making a smart remark.

_"Out of the question! AWK! Out of the question!"_

Riley glared at Short Tom, but Hook didn't take the time to silence him this time, "As I said before, Miss Sparks, you needn't repay me for my hospitality. I am glad to provide you shelter and my protection for as long as you remain in Neverland."

Riley sighed. It was obvious she was going to have to be more blunt, "Alright…I understand you mean well, but…I didn't _ask_ for your protection. You captured _me_, remember?"

Hook looked taken aback, almost hurt, but he quickly covered it up by _attempting_ a sincere smile, "_Please_…" he purred, "do not think that you are being held prisoner by me, Miss Sparks."

She shrugged, "Then you wouldn't mind if I left?"

His face visibly stiffened, "Of _course_, I would."

"Exactly."

"I—" Hook began, but he didn't finish. Instead, he sighed. She could tell that he was trying not to become frustrated with her. "My dear…Neverland is not a place one would want to get _lost_ in."

"Really?" she said snippily, ignoring Short Tom's screeches of '_get lost'_, "You seem to have plenty of maps lying around, or are you assuming I couldn't _read_ one?"

She heard another purr escape his throat, but this one was a bit more like a muffled growl, "It isn't a place that a young woman should be roaming about in," he said, his tone challenging her to argue the point further, "Perhaps, like those wretched _children_… you think Neverland to be a wonderful, magical place."

"Isn't it?" though she said this as a question, she really meant it as a statement.

He eyed her darkly, "This cursed island is a cruel place, Miss Sparks; there are numerous plights out there that even rival my own aptitude at times. Therefore—"

"Look…" Hook's eyes bulged at the rudeness of her interruption, but she glared right back, "I'm not a damsel in distress. No matter how much you…_want_ me to be," she shifted and slouched a bit in her seat, "And I _hate_ wearing this dress…"

_"Hate wearing this dress! AWK! Hate! Hate! Hate!"_

Hook's expression was a mixture of perplexity and disappointment, "My _dear_, I… I don't know what to say. I've never met a woman that didn't enjoy fine clothing."

"Yeah, well, that depends on what you call 'fine clothing'," she tugged at the lace at the collar of her dress with revulsion, "Just let me do the whole pirate thing for a while; humor me for a few days."

"Miss Sparks," Hook put his fingers and hook together in the same way one would steeple their fingers, "you are not qualified to be a part of my crew. I _highly_ doubt you've handled a firearm-"

"_Actually_, I have," she quickly interjected.

Hook gave her a look that suggested he didn't entirely believe her, "Really? _Hm!_ And might I ask what the circumstances _were_ in which one left a weapon in _your_ charge."

Riley looked at him from over her glasses dejectedly, "You say that like I'm a complete idiot." she pushed her glasses back up on her nose, "It's not that hard to learn how a gun works. I mean, my dad's hunts. He got me a rifle for Christmas when I was, like, eight."

"Well, nonetheless," Hook continued, "you also must be experienced with a sword."

"So teach me," Riley shrugged, "I'll learn fast."

"For a _woman_ to wield a sword is simply not good form," Hook warned, "and I _refuse_ to let you do so under _my_ captaincy on _my_ ship, Miss Sparks."

Riley scoffed, folding her arms across her chest, "Screw 'good form', then."

An uncomfortable silence hung in the room, then. It was such a simple, harmless statement, and Riley didn't even think she had said it loud enough for him to have heard. But she was given only a second to begin to regret what she had just said even before she looked up to see Hook glowering as if he could have exploded.

"I beg your _pardon_?" he asked softly.

Riley felt a leap of fear in the pit of her stomach when Hook stood from his chair and stalked towards her at a leisurely pace.

"_I_ am an English gentleman brought up along side the most honorable of men."

_"Most honorable of men! AWK! Most honorable of-"_

"Oh, _shut it_, ya wretched _bird!_" he swiped his hook at Short Tom and the parrot took flight with a distressed cry, landing on the bedpost nearby, not to interrupt for the rest of the evening.

Hook continued toward her with a dangerous gaze, "I happen to hold good form _very_ highly, and while you are on board _my_ ship, you will be expected to do the same," he rested his hook on the back of her chair right next to her head as he circled around and faced her on the other side, "Do not make the mistake of thinking that I am on the same level as my crew of cultureless recreants."

She sighed casually and looked away, but Hook quickly made it apparent that he would have none of her insolence when his hook found its way under her chin and pressed lightly to her throat. He lifted her chin to look at him, the pressure of the hook causing her to gulp. It took every fiber of her being to keep her glare, but she knew his intense stare saw right through her.

"Let me make one thing perfectly clear to you, my sweet," Hook's baritone voice rumbled, "_good form_ is the only reason that _you_ are still living…" he smirked with a dominant leer, "and that you weren't used for a more…_corporeal_ purpose."

He glanced quickly down her figure, making the meaning of this last statement perfectly clear. Riley scowled and pulled away from him violently, refusing to appear intimidated no matter how intimidated she actually was.

He chuckled, knowing she was flustered as he made his way back to his side of the table, "And you will continue to wear the dress-"

"I don't _want_ it!" she hissed through clenched teeth.

Hook snarled, "That _wasn't_ a _request!_"

Riley clawed at the bodice, unable to grip the skin tight material, "It's like four sizes too small for me!"

He scraped the table with his hook, "It's _precisely_ your size!"

"Yeah, ten _years_ ago, maybe…"

"Stop yer complaining, girl," he warned crossly, "before I _give_ you something to complain about."

"I can't _breath.!_" she snarled back, "Isn't that enough to warrant a complaint?"

Hook's face was almost red now; he had finally had enough.

"Well it's no _wonder_ the way you've been stuffing your face!"

Riley glared, her pupils visibly shrinking, "… are you calling me _fat?_" she hissed

.

Hook smirked, "You _will_ be, the way _you_ eat."

Riley stiffened in outrage, and Hook chuckled inwardly. Despite his firm belief that women should be treated with respect, he still enjoyed taunting them in true pirate fashion, and _she_ was asking for it; at least, that was what he told himself. It wouldn't be long afterwards that he would be kicking himself for it.

"Now you can sulk all you want, my _sweet_, but you are still under my authority as long as you are here," his lips curled into a sly grin, "You will soon find, _Miss Sparks_, that being the polite young lady that you should be has its merits." He tried to make this statement sound as snotty and pompous as he could, and it really didn't take much effort.

Riley rolled her eyes and tore more savagely into her rigid bread only to be scolded gently by Hook to take smaller bites. She held back a snarl of contempt, and sunk her teeth into a bite of the dry, now cold roast.

"It is also clear to _me_ that you could do with some lessons in _etiquette_…" Hook pressed, enjoying her helplessness more and more, "starting tomorrow."

Riley pretended not to hear, and Hook chuckled silently. He scolded himself for enjoying her discontent so much, but she was _making_ it difficult for herself. He had to admit that he was amused by her ambition, but he had to wonder where she got it in her head that her particular ambitions were appropriate for _her_. But in the end, he honestly didn't know why he was surprised.

'What else could be expected from someone from such a barbaric country,' he thought, 'But no matter. I'll have her _trained _in no time.'


	5. Chapter 5

Peter did a somersault in midair before diving headfirst into his tree at the Underground House, "Come on, Nibs! We've gotta tell Wendy and the Lost Boys about our latest adventure!"

Nibs corkscrewed into his own tree, "Right behind you, Peter!"

Peter stuck a perfect landing in the center of the dirt covered floor, "Wendy! What an adventure we've just had!" he stepped before the girl, fists on his hips and chest puffed out as far as possible.

Wendy giggled as she looked up from the fireplace she was lighting, "You've been gone all night, Peter. You shouldn't do that so much, you know. You need your sleep."

"Sleep? Who can sleep when there's all of Neverland to explore? Nibs and I just got back from the Neverswamp!"

"The _Neverswamp_?" Tootles groaned with a stretch, just emerging from bed, "Aw! I _never _get to go to the Neverswamp!"

"We can go again sometime, Tootles," Nibs assured the small, pudgy boy, "Besides, I think those mischievous water nymphs still have a score to settle with us."

"Yeah!" Peter laughed, "They sure didn't like us being in their swamp! They tried to drown us _both_ and—"

"_Peteeeer!_"

All heads turned to the source of the irritated voice of a rather disheveled Tinkerbell fluttering in from one of the various entrances.

"Oh, Tinkerbell! Ya gotta hear about our grand adventure!"

"Save it, _Peter_," Tink warned from between gritted teeth, then fluttered up to her flower situated on the mantle on the wall, "Do you have _any_ idea what I had to go through to pull your silly prank?"

Peter cocked his head to one side, squinting an eye, "What prank?"

There was a short moment of complete silence in which it looked like Tink might pop before she sighed deeply and slapped a palm over her forehead, "The _prank_ that _you_ made me help to pull on _Hook_, you silly _ass!"_

Peter's face brightened despite the insult, "Oh, the _prank!_ Did ya put the Neverswamp water in Hook's soup? How mad did he get? I'll bet Cookson got a flogging for that one! Haha!"

"Peter! Of _course_, I didn't! I didn't have time!" her wings beat nervously of their own accord, "I almost got _caught_ pullingthat stupid _prank_! I had to use my fairy dust to make a portal to the outside world, and… _oh_, you just won'tbelieve it, Peter."

"What is it, Tinkerbell?" Wendy asked, "Why are you so upset?"

"I think…" she fluttered to sit at the entrance of her flower with another sigh, "I think I accidentally let a grownup into Neverland."

There was a simultaneous gasp from everyone in the room, and Peter's features darkened, "Wh- what do you mean, you let a _grownup_ into _Neverland_?"

"I didn't _mean_ to, Peter," she hugged her legs to her chest, "I was stuck in the galley, and Cookson wouldn't leave long enough for me to get away! I used some of the dust I got at Small Monday Island to create a portal that was _supposed_ to get me back _here_. But instead, it took me somewhere else… somewhere outside of Neverland. Then I sort of… fell asleep for a few minutes, and she must have wandered into the portal while I wasn't looking."

"Tink, how could you let a _grownup_ just wander into Neverland right under your…" Peter suddenly paused and a glimmer returned to his eyes, "Waaaait, did you say you made that portal in the galley of the _Jolly Roger_?"

Tink wrinkled her nose, "Yes, but I don't see what that has to—"

"Don't ya _see_?" Peter sprung into the air and took flight, "That means she's been captured by the pirates! And _that_ means we have to _rescue _her!" he weaved in and out of the gathering of Lost Boys, "Lets hope Hook hasn't already made her walk the plank!

"Come, Lost Boys! We must save the damsel from the clutches of the evil dragon!"

The Lost Boys exchanged looks of befuddlement, "What dragon?" Tootles asked with a shrug.

"Why, Hook, of _course_!" Peter said this as if it were obvious, "Hook can be the evil, fire-breathing dragon that steals the damsel, and we will be the brave warriors who come to rescue her!"

"That's a slightly good idea," Slightly commented, and the other boys nodded and voiced their agreement.

Peter darted into the air once more, "Then onward, men! We must save the lady from the fire-breathing dragon!"

The boys followed Peter out of the underground house with whoops and cheers, leaving only Tink and Wendy alone.

Tink rolled her eyes, "Oh, sometimes I think I will _never_ understand that boy!"

Wendy shrugged, "Boys will be boys, Tink. You know that."

* * *

Riley was shaken awake by several quick knocks on the door of her cabin. She groaned in drowsy irritation and rolled over, still half asleep.

Another quick rap on the door finally made her respond, "_Whaaat?_"

"Eh, Bosun Smee 'ere, lassy! Cap'n says 'e needs a word with yeh."

She groaned even louder at this, "What time is it?"

"O-eight hundred hours, Miss," he replied, "Cap'n wants ya in 'is cabin in an hour."

"N'hour?" Riley slurred sleepily, "I could'a gotten at least another forty-five minutes of sleep."

"Wha's that, lass?"

She sat up on the side of the bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, "Nothin'… I'll be out there in a minute."

It wasn't even ten minutes before Riley was out on deck. She hadn't bothered to get Smee to help her with the corset, and she hoped Hook wouldn't notice that she had simply tied the ties of her dress loose enough so that she could just barely get it to fit properly.

She decided to spend the next fifty minutes on deck, as the only other apparent choice would be staying cooped up in her cabin. After all, it was a much clearer day than the day before had been, and for the first time, she was able to really see what a beautiful island Neverland really was.

She settled herself on an empty barrel next to the tiger-shaped cannon, Long Tom.

It was near impossible for her to not notice that the men on deck were watching her quite intently. A few simply looked curious, but a couple of them gave her looks she didn't feel good about at _all_.

Robert Mullins turned from the frayed portion of rigging he was repairing to stare stonily in her direction. Riley pretended not to notice as he turned to Starkey, who was working beside him and spoke to him in what was intended to be a whisper.

"That lass be trouble, Starkey; just you wait. We'll have no manner o' luck at all with her on board. And just yeh _wait_! Soon, she'll have us partakin' in tea parties… and makin' us _bathe_ every day."

Starkey, though trying to keep his higher pitched voice a whisper, was even easier for Riley to hear, "Personally, Robert Mullins, I quite _like_ the idea of having a lady on board. It's been too long since we've been in the company of a female. It's quite refreshing, don't you know."

"Not a _bad_ lookin' wench, either," Mason growled with a quick glance over at Riley, "nice 'n buxom."

He and Starkey chuckled.

"Aye, though, I usually prefer women who are a bit more petite," Starkey said, "there's something about the slightly more voluptuous type that _is_ rather appealing."

Riley rolled her eyes, "You guys aren't so good at whispering, are you?"

Mason and Starkey looked startled that she could have possibly heard them, and Mullins simply grunted and returned to his work.

"Oh!" Starkey was almost blushing in embarrassment, "we meant no offense, miss. I _assure _you."

"Yeah," Mason said, propping himself up with the large mallet he had been working with, "it's just, we haven't exactly been around womenfolk much since we got to Neverland."

"Somehow, that doesn't make me _feel_ any better…" Riley replied, to which Mason scratched his head.

"She may be pretty, _dogs_," Mullins interrupted, "but she's bad luck aboard this ship. Mark my _words_!"

Riley scoffed, "That's _bull_..."

"You think so now, lass. But aboard this ship, you're a jinx."

There was a short silence among them, until Mason chuckled, "She wouldn't be bad luck if she were _naked_," he growled with a devilish smirk.

Riley visibly cringed, "Think I should go now…"

"Oh, come on, men."

Jukes approached where the others were gathered, turning to tend to Long Tom as he spoke, "If the Cap'n says she has to stay, then she has just as much right to be here as _we _do. Ain't fair she should have to take flak for something she's got no control over."

Mullins's weathered face scrunched up at his young shipmate, "Well, maybe if she were pullin' her weight…"

"Believe me, I'd _love_ to pull my weight," Riley insisted, "but the Captain thinks I'm too _delicate_ for piracy. I'd love for one of you to take it up with him if you have any complaints, though. Seriously..."

The four pirates looked quickly at each other before immediately going back to their previous tasks.

She sighed, "I didn't think so."

The crew went silent as the large double doors of the Captain's cabin unexpectedly creaked open, and Hook emerged.

Riley's irritation at him flared anew as he patrolled the deck with that superior gaze. She doubted that she would ever be able to change the stubborn man's mind about her situation, but she was certainly in no mood to let it go.

Deciding that she wanted no likelihood of him thinking that she was happy with her situation, she tried to look as uninterested as possible, standing to lean over the ship's railing, her head resting in her palm. A shiver ran down her spine as she felt the Captain nearing her, a feeling that she puzzled over for only a short moment.

Hook's forget-me-not eyes scanned the deck. He raised an eyebrow at the fact that his men were all, for once, actually doing their duties. His eyes finally rested on Riley, who was slumped over the ship's edge, looking a bit too bored for the whole situation to not be completely fabricated.

He chuckled to himself. He saw what she was playing at, and it wasn't about to work. Not with such a weak attempt and never on James Hook.

"Good day, Miss Sparks."

Riley didn't show her discomfort at the thought of sharing another conversation with him. In fact she didn't even look up at him when she answered with a disconnected "uhuh".

The edge of Hook's mouth curled into a smirk, "I say, Miss Sparks, _do_ stand up straight when being addressed by the Captain."

She shifted her head so that her hand covered her mouth, and she mumbled something that sounded like "yes mother" before finally complying to Hook's request.

"I believe it is about time for your… ahem… lesson."

"What?" she asked, reaching around to rub a soar spot on the small of her back with her knuckles.

"Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about," his teeth flashed between his lips in a half-smirk, half-sneer, "I'm sure you remember when I informed you last night that you would learn proper etiquette, and do so, you shall."

"Ugh, you were _serious_?" she whispered mostly to herself, but loud enough that Hook easily heard it, "I thought Smee said you didn't need me until nine."

"What you _thought_ is immaterial, my dear. Now come," he held out his arm for her to take and his smile faltered when she hesitated to take it.

"Lesson one, Miss Sparks: it is quite rude not to accept a gentleman's arm when it is offered to you."

She glared toward his arm and back up to him then grabbed his offered arm rather roughly almost causing him to have to stoop over. If there was one thing that the two of them _could_ agree on, it was that neither of them were going to give the other an easy time.

* * *

Riley sat stiffly at her end of the table watching for any signal from Hook that might give her a clue as to what she should be doing. Out of all the things she had ever imagined doing in Neverland, taking etiquette lessons with Captain Hook had not once crossed her mind.

Despite his prior irritation, he had politely pulled out her chair for her, "Now…" he paused to stare dauntingly at her before taking his own seat at the other end of the table, "I suppose that the best way to proceed would be to see exactly what you _do_ know about proper manners."

He gazed down his nose at her, "I highly doubt that this will be at all time consuming."

She knew he was expecting her to be insulted by this, so she promptly agreed, "No, probably not."

He gritted his teeth, and Riley thought she heard a low growl come from him, "So… we shall simply begin as normal, and _I_ shall reprimand you as needed."

"Alright," she consented with a shrug, "But… where's the food?"

Hook's eyes narrowed in a particularly condescending way, "We will have a proper formal meal when you learn how to behave at one," he reached for the empty salad bowl that sat nearest him, and Riley took this as a signal to do the same as she reached for the plate nearest to her.

"_Stop_," Hook ordered immediately.

Riley's hand hovered only an inch over the dish, "_Already?_" she asked, truly surprised that she had exhibited bad manners so soon.

"A lady _never_ serves herself," he explained, taking the salad bowl and getting up from his seat to serve her himself, "_I_ am to serve you, then myself."

She sighed and allowed him to scoop a pretend portion onto her plate.

After Hook had seated himself once more, she reached for one of the many forks that surrounded her plate but stopped once again at the sound of Hook clearing his throat.

"What? Do you have to feed me too?"

"I don't _suppose_ that I should have _expected _you to know the proper fork to use when eating salad."

"I don't see why you need more than one," she dropped the fork back in its place, "it's all going to the same place."

"Those are precisely the sort of sentiments I would expect from you, Miss Sparks," he stated snappily.

She rolled her eyes with a groan, then looked back down at the setting before her. She pointed at one of the other forks with a questioning glance at Hook.

"_Wrong_," he declared curtly.

Her hand shifted slightly so that she now pointed at one of the spoons.

Hook scoffed, "You don't even know what you're _pointing_ at."

"No," she confirmed dismissively.

He growled, clawing at the table with his hook and covering his face with his hand, "I am losing patience with you, _lass_."

"That was fast," she murmured, and Hook's jaw twitched as he ground his teeth together.

"Alright! _Geez_!" Riley exhaled, "Outside fork, right?"

"Hm…" he wrinkled his eyebrows, "perhaps you _do_ know something of decent manners."

Riley shrugged, "Perhaps."

"Though it seems that you rarely employ them."

She pursed her lips with a sideways glance, "Probably not."

She was about to take a drink from her glass, which was the only thing on the table that was actually filled, before a loud and overly cheerful jingle erupted from her end of the table.

Hook actually jumped at this, eyes wide at the unusual sound coming from his, so far, displeasing dinner companion.

"Oops! Forgot I had that!" Riley rustled around in the skirt of her dress, retrieving her cell phone with great difficulty.

"_What _by the sword of Saint George is _that_?" Hook looked at the device in her hand as if it were a dead rat.

"Just my phone alarm!" she waved the phone sheepishly, "It's nine o'clock! Hehe…"

"Are those _trousers _you're wearing under that dress?" he asked crossly.

"Erm… yes…"

He sighed, "Give me that device, now."

"Why?" she asked, holding it to her chest protectively.

"You may have it back after we are finished here."

She sighed, "_Fine_…just let me turn it off."

The phone emitted a series of notes as it powered down, then she flipped it closed and handed the it over. He held it between his thumb and forefinger, perhaps in case it might bite, and placed it in a drawer of his desk.

As he sat back down, Riley picked up her glass once again and took a rather large swig of water. She regretted it, however, and was barely able to swallow the liquid before going into a coughing fit.

Hook pretended to examine his nails even though he was wearing a glove, "It's quite _rude_ to cough at the table, you know."

"I can't- _cough_- help it- _cough_-_cough_- that water tastes like- _cough_- feet!"

"It is also inappropriate to express distaste for any part of the meal," he said, brushing his gloved fingers against his cravat.

Riley was finally able to stop her coughing, though this did not quell Hook's frustration.

"Are you quite finished?" he asked, his eyebrows arched so high they looked like they might escape his face.

He was answered with a small, squeaky hiccup, and Riley slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a snort of laughter before removing it quickly to reply, "Yes."

"Now," he exhaled slowly, "I will go and get a more acceptable beverage. You will stay right here and touch nothing."

She nodded, deciding that she shouldn't frustrate him any further. A small sigh escaped her as he left, and her eyes shifted across the table. This was all quite ridiculous. Riley had thought that being held captive by pirates might at least be a little more exciting. But here she was having an imaginary dinner party with Hook of all people.

'Just like that scene with the Lost Boys in the movie _Hook_,' she thought with a chuckle.

Her eyebrows furrowed, 'I _wonder_…'

She pursed her lips, glancing slowly at one of the spoons at her plate, picking it up casually and twirling it around in her fingers for a moment. Then, she held the utensil at arms length on the table, placing a finger at the spoon's tip and flipped it as if flipping food across the room.

The next thing she knew was that Hook stood in the door frame, quite surprised and disgruntled at the fact that he had been unceremoniously hit in the face with a gooey, blue substance.

"… it… actually works…" was all she could manage to say as Hook wiped the icing-like stuff from his face and glared.

"I believe, Miss Sparks, that we are finished for today."


	6. Chapter 6

**Note: So...yeah, decided to get back to this. Also, I've edited previous chapters as well, so you might take a look at those as well. Enjoy!**

Hook wiped his face with the lace handkerchief he kept in his coat pocket, attempting to get the last bit of icing from the corners of his eyes.

"If you can't _behave _yourself, Miss Sparks, then you can share breakfast with the _crew_!"

She seemed unimpressed, "_Fine, _it's not like you were feeding me actual food anyway."

"_No_," he rasped dryly, "just that disgusting blue slop that you so _generously _launched upon my person."

"How was _I_ supposed to know that would happen?" she said with a shrug.

"Then, why, pray tell, did you attempt it in the first place?"

"I don't know, I was just _messing around_! I didn't think it would actually _work_!"

Hook glared, "And do you _often_ propel fictitious objects at figures of authority?"

She crossed her arms with an exasperated sigh that sounded more like a snarl.

Hook had to hold back a chuckle, not so much because of her frustration, but because he couldn't recall ever having heard a woman actually growl before. Realizing that he found her anger amusing, he made the decision to taunt her further.

He grinned wickedly and turned to the same chest he had gotten her dress out of.

"Ah, _yeeees_! I almost forgot! _Since_ you will be spending ample lengths of time out on deck, I will require you to wear _this_."

Riley glanced up to see what he was holding and did a double take. In his hand was a lacy, pink bonnet that matched the dress she was currently unlucky enough to be wearing.

She scowled at the offending piece of material then back up at Hook, "You're _funny_."

"I assure you, Miss Sparks, that I am not joking," he smirked, "You wouldn't want the sun's hot rays to damage that…_lovely_ skin of yours, would you."

Riley mentally punched herself in the face for the small leap that quickly fluttered in her stomach at the tone of that comment, coupled with the rough texture of his gloved hand on her almost bare shoulder. She froze only for a moment before shrugging his hand off of her.

Hook's smile wasn't even trying to disguise its mockery this time, "And it would look so _sweet_ framing that adorable little face of yours."

Riley was becoming truly agitated as Hook actually pinched her cheek, and she batted his hand away, taking a couple of steps back, "Well, if _you_ like it so much, why don't _you_ wear it, and I'll wear that _boat_ on your head."

Hook's smile faltered in annoyance, "This is no high jinks, Miss Sparks. You _will_ wear this bonnet while on deck. That is an _order_."

She seethed for a moment, "Ya know what? No!"

Hook blinked in confusion, "N- … _no_?"

"_No_."

She could almost hear Hook's teeth grinding together, before he not so subtly composed himself, "Alright, _Miss Sparks_. I will play your little _game_," he held the bonnet out between the two of them, "I shall count to _three_. And either you will be so gracious as to take this wee bonnet from me and use it to your advantage…_or_…you _won't_ take me up on my courteous offer, and you will find yourself strung up to the mainmast with the sting of the _cat'o'nine_ against your back!"

Riley's mouth slowly turned up in a mischievous smirk, "Oh, _now_ we're _talkin'_!"

Hook raised an eyebrow, "Oh, you think you'd _like_ that, _do you?_ I can assure you, little Miss, that you will _not_."

Somehow the idea of this little challenge appealed to her greatly, "We'll see, then, won't we?"

"Hm," Hook narrowed his eyes, tilting his head upward to look down his nose at her.

"_One._"

Riley's stare was unwavering this time. Adrenaline was already pumping through her veins, and she no longer had any fear of keeping his gaze.

"_Two._"

This time, Hook held the bonnet closer, both hoping and fully expecting her to snatch it away quickly. This was nothing more than a game of chicken, he was sure. She was seeing if he would relent before she would. She would not win. But perhaps she should be made aware of the seriousness of her situation.

"I warn you, Miss Sparks, the cat is not a friendly chap. And you should also be made well aware that I am very much a man of my word."

"Then why are you stalling?"

Hook now looked the most grave she had seen him yet. His hook twitched at his side, and he looked almost mournful. His mouth opened, but instead of the continuation of his counting, a loud crow erupted from just outside the cabin.

Hook's expression changed in an instant. His lips curled in a snarl, his curly, white hair bristled, his hooked arm visibly stiffened, and Riley could have sworn she saw the tiniest flicker of blood red reflect in his eyes.

"_Pan_!" Hook swiftly turned to the door, drawing his sword in one fluid motion, "That _boy_ will have _hell_ to pay after his wretched prank yesterday!"

Riley's face turned to surprise and interest, "_Peter_ Pan?"

He turned back to her with an accusatory hook pointed in her direction, "You will not set _foot_ outside of this cabin, Miss Sparks, or you will sorely regret it!"

"_What_?"

"You _heard_ me…"

Riley glowered at the door as he left, scratching at the irritating material of her bodice. She glanced around for a crack in the wall or anything she could look out of to see what was going on. There was a large window that took up the entire wall above the door, but she couldn't see anything out of it as it was stained a deep burgundy. The windows at the sides of the room, however allowed her to see a few boys, _flying_ boys, making their way towards the deck of the ship. For the first time, it really started to sink in. This was indeed Neverland, and its inhabitants were just as magical as the stories claimed.

She finally decided that since Hook's exact orders were not to set _foot_ outside the cabin, she was perfectly within her right to take a peek out the double doors to at least catch a glimpse of the action. She pushed one of the doors open slowly, and it creaked a bit more than she would have liked it to. However, looking outside, it was clear that no one had heard her. The entire crew was now fending off the band of flying boys she had seen before, and in the midst of them, Hook clashed swords with a brown-clad boy, slashing at him with a fury that clearly showed he hated the boy with a burning passion.

A sense of nostalgic, childish wonder overtook her as she fully realized that she was watching the eternal battle between Captain James Hook and Peter Pan.

"There you are!"

Riley almost fell backwards when she was face to upside-down face with a small, chubby boy dressed resembling a panda.

The boy was shoved out of the way by another, taller boy with a similar eared hat that looked like a tiger, "I found the prisoner, Peter!"

The smaller boy looked up at the second one, rubbing his fur covered head with a resentful glare.

She heard the same loud crow that had started it all, followed by the distinctive sound of Hook's animalistic growl, and she was then met with a third boy, who landed in front of her, fists at his hips and chest puffed out proudly.

"Greetings, m'lady!" he bowed magnificently, "_I_ am Peter Pan! And _I_ am here to rescue you from Hook's clutches!"

He grabbed her hand and tugged her to follow him.

"Hey! _Quit _it!"

He had managed to drag her out the door when he abruptly released her and was jerked backwards by Hook.

"_You_ should be more concerned with rescuing your own worthless hide, _boy_!"

Hook's sword flashed in the sunlight and buried itself in the deck where Peter had previously stood. Peter now hovered behind Hook as he struggled to remove his sword from the wooden planks.

"Release the damsel, you old _fiend_!"

"I'll not relent a _thing_ to the likes of _you_, ya miserable, memory-deficient hellion!"

Hook tilted his head toward Riley without taking his eyes from Peter, "I believe I _warned_ you about setting foot outside my cabin, Miss Sparks."

"I _didn't_ until that kid dragged me out of it!"

"Have at thee, _scug_!" Peter's dagger clashed with Hook's much larger sword, and it was clear that Hook was not at all in the mood to play games.

He clawed toward Peter's midsection with his hook, and Peter narrowly dodged, "Haha! Playing _dirty_ today, are we, Captain?"

"I've no time for your shenanigans today, _boy!_ Now depart from my ship before I set anchor in your innards!" he lashed out at Pan again, and the boy had to move quickly to evade the vicious attacks.

"It was quite clear, Miss Sparks, that you alerted those poltroonish boys to your position by making your presence known!"

"I might have taken a peek out the door, sure," she leaned against the door frame, watching the fight with the most interest she had been able to show in the past two days, "but not a foot was set outside your cabin. Like _you_ said."

Hook growled as he locked his sword and hook with Peter's blade, "Your cheek is about to get you in deeper than you want to be, m'dear."

She scoffed, "Yeah? Ya gonna count to three again? I'm beginning to see a pattern here. You make empty threats you can't carry out; just like how you swear up and down you're gonna finally get rid of the "hellion" but never can."

There was an audible gasp from nearly everyone on board, and Hook ceased his fighting completely. His back was turned to her, but she didn't need to see his face to have some idea of what it looked like right now. His body visibly shook, and it almost seemed as if the large muscles in his back were straining enough that the seams of his coat would rip. He thrust Peter aside with a hand over his face and turned to her.

There was no mistaking now that she had gone _entirely_ too far this time. The red of his eyes burned as brightly as ever, and now it was directed at her.

"Oh, so you think I'm full of empty threats, _do_ you?" he moved slowly, but his long strides put him within her personal space quickly. And when she attempted to back away, the tip of his hook scrapped dangerously at the tender underside of her jaw. His blazing eyes bore into hers and his sneer exuded cruelty.

"Blast those boys out of their God-forsaken skies, Jukes," his fiery eyes never left Riley's, "Smee!"

Smee approached carefully this time. The man might have been stupid, but even he knew better than to make a wrong move now, "A-aye…Cap'n?"

"Have the _wee lassy_ properly secured belly against the mainmast…" his eyes narrowed, "and fetch the _cat_."


	7. Chapter 7

Riley was actually quite taken aback at the Captain's order. She couldn't say it scared her, exactly. At least, it didn't _yet_. But she was honestly surprised Hook was really going to carry out his threat. She had been _sure_ he was bluffing.

It was clear, however, as she found herself being pressed face first against the mast by Mason and tied in place by some of the other men, that this time, he was quite serious. She was barely able to crane her neck to see behind her. Although she couldn't turn her head far enough to see him, she could hear the distinctive, heavy footsteps of the Captain emerging from his cabin, and a small shiver went up her spine as she heard him slowly nearing her.

Smee finally stepped into sight, holding what looked like a small whip with several leather strips hanging from it and offering it to Hook as he came into her field of vision as well. He took the instrument with a stony expression.

_Now_ she was a becoming little uneasy.

All was silent for several seconds until she heard his footsteps continue. It seemed an eternity before they stopped directly behind her, and she half expected to feel the sting of the cat then.

"For disorderly conduct, Miss Sparks, you will receive _five_ lashes with the cat o'nine."

He was out of her line of sight now, and his voice held no hint of any emotion. She heard him address Smee, and seconds later, the Bosun was unlacing the back of her dress. The cool, Neverland breeze against her back was starting to waken her to the reality of the situation. _Fine_. _She_ wasn't about to back down.

She almost jumped when she heard Hook's voice almost directly next to her ear and felt the leather straps of the cat graze her back. His voice temporarily regained it's mocking, baritone purr.

"A shame, it _is_, Miss Sparks…that you force me to mar such a lovely back."

The suggestiveness of this comment sent an involuntary flutter through her stomach and seemed to make her position all the more uncomfortable. But she wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of knowing that. She strained to look him in the eye with a smirk.

"Not that it would have done _you_ any good, right?"

The look that appeared briefly on his face suggested that he took offense before he chuckled haughtily, "_Oh_, touché, my _dear_…"

She heard him step back before another long period of silence.

She could see Starkey and Mullin out of the corner of her eye. Starkey looked almost as uncomfortable as she felt, and as expected, Mullins' expression was stern and unwavering. She could also see Jukes quite clearly, and the look of sympathy on his face did nothing to make her feel any better about the circumstances. Seconds ticked by that seemed like minutes, but still, nothing happened. The only clue she had as to what Hook was doing was the reactions on the other pirates' faces, and they were still waiting as expectantly as she.

"One last chance, Miss Sparks," Hook's voice broke the silence again, this time, raspier with hoarseness, "Simply apologize for your brash disrespect, and I shall release you."

He waited for her to beg for his forgiveness. There was no way she was going to go through with this. _Surely_ she wouldn't.

She looked rather irritated at his question this time, "I don't think I will."

He was honestly astounded at her declination. Never had he met a female so hard headed. While at the height of his rage, he probably would have already begun the lashings, but his previous anger was beginning to wane.

"I can assure you that you will sorely regret that decision."

She fixed him with an unwavering glare. She clearly wasn't going to budge.

His eyes narrowed, "So be it."

There wasn't a peep across the deck as he raised the cat above his head. His own stubborn will battled inwardly with his good form. He had to make an example of her; he couldn't just let her get away with her blatant disrespect. But at the same time, every moral fiber that still remained in his body was telling him not to strike her.

Finally, he had made up his mind. The cat descended to meet its target, and the entire crew seemed to be holding their breath.

Riley jumped with the slightest squeak of surprise at the crack of the whip, and it took her several seconds to register that she had not been struck. The cat had landed inches from her side. Her irritation was turning into real anger. How long was he going to taunt her?

The crew looked on in stunned silence until Hook spoke for one final time, "Lace her dress, _Smee_, and release her back to her cabin," he turned to retreat back to his own cabin, "I have had enough of this _farce_."

Riley's jaw dropped, "_WHAT?_"

All attention turned to her as her eyes burned into Hook's.

"_Are _you _SERIOUS?_ _Get BACK here and finish what you STARTED!_"

He met her gaze from over his shoulder as she struggled against her bonds; the look she was giving him was like that of a mad dog. He quickly realized that this simple snub had enraged her more than any lashing ever could have. She had _wanted_ him to strike her…but why? Perhaps being aware of his obsession with good form, she wanted to cause him to waver? But why would she have willingly suffered physical harm just to tempt him?

He ignored her cries of outrage and shut his cabin door behind him, 'There's not a man on this planet that will ever decipher the eternal puzzle that is a woman's mind,' he thought with a shake of his head.

'I need a drink…'

* * *

"What an _ass!_"

Riley had been ranting alone in her cabin to no one for the past three minutes. Had she wanted Hook to carry out the lashings? No, not particularly. But tying her up and making a display of her in front of the entire crew only to patronizing her like that? Somehow that seemed even worse.

This certainly wasn't over; not even close. If Hook thought he had been gracious in treating her like some porcelain doll and just letting her go, he was dead wrong. She thought about lowering herself out her window, providing the croc was nowhere around, and going off to find Peter Pan again. If it took joining the enemy and fighting against Hook before he would stop treating her like something that needed protecting, then so be it.

She knew this wouldn't work, though. Peter wouldn't let her join him. She was an adult; there was no reason he would want _her_.

She fell backwards onto the velvet cover of the bed, and her anger slowly began to ebb away, 'Why do I care so much?'

She was surprised when she realized this was the first time this thought had crossed her mind. Why _did_ she care what Hook thought? There were plenty of things she should be worrying about _way_ more than whether Hook saw her as competent or not, number one being how she was going to get off this ship and, more importantly, how she would get back home.

She sat up on the edge of the bed, rubbing her eyes with a thumb and forefinger then looking up toward the window. And then, there was something else entirely. In all honesty, she wasn't sure she could say she really wanted to go home. Oh, of course, she wanted to go home _eventually_, but there was no way any person with the slightest sense of adventure could possibly resist Neverland's allure. How many people got this chance? How many _adults_ got this chance? There was no way she could just leave without taking advantage of the experience. She sighed and cursed Hook for taking her phone away. She wouldn't even be able to take pictures.

Hook…

No matter how he enraged her, she knew he was part of the reason she couldn't leave. She couldn't put her finger on it, but for some reason, she couldn't stand the thought of him not seeing her as capable. But why? Why did she feel the need to impress _him_ of all people? Just because he had suggested she should be dependent on him?

She didn't know. All she did know was that she wasn't going to let him think she had been put in her place. As soon as Hook requested her presence at supper tonight, the quarrel would continue.

She was left to fabricate possible scenarios for that night in her head. She quickly came to the conclusion that tonight would either turn into a huge shouting match or be filled with awkward silence. And heaven _forbid_ he try and give her another etiquette lesson.

Riley found herself staring into space and realized she had been sitting there, brooding for hours. One of the crew should be knocking on her door at any time now for her to come to dinner. She ruffled her hair a bit, making it look as unkempt as possible, and it was a very few minutes when there was a knock at the door followed by a muffled call.

"Pardon me, Miss Sparks, but I've got some supper here for ya."

She deflated. Of _course_, she was having dinner in her own cabin tonight. Hook probably didn't want anything to do with her at this point.

She opened the door to see Billy Jukes peering over a large tray of food. He seemed to be straining to support the load; there was almost as much food on this tray as there usually was at Hook's own table at mealtimes.

"Whoa! Need help with that?"

She didn't wait for him to answer, and she ignored his protests as she helped him lower the tray onto the small table situated against one of the walls.

"Thank you, miss…though you didn't _have_ to help."

She shrugged, "It's fine. No problem."

Jukes nodded, glancing up at her through his thick bangs, "Well, I greatly appreciate it, ma'am. Also, Cap'n told me to tell ya you can go out on deck if ya'd like. He politely requests ya be inside after sunset, though, very least, before midnight."

She gave a snort of laughter that seemed to surprise him a bit, "Why? Is he a werewolf or something?"

He gave an unsure snicker, "Not that I know of…"

"By the way…_Billy_?"

"Oh! Uh…Jukes. Billy Jukes."

"Yeah. Um…where exactly…is he?" she fumbled over her words nervously.

"Cap'n?" he shrugged, "Gone on another hunt for Pan, him and Smee. Won't be back till late."

"Oh…" she nodded slowly.

The corner of his mouth twitched in an awkward smile, and he nodded, "Well…enjoy your meal, Miss…"

"Um..." she stopped him, and he turned back toward her cautiously.

"I, uh...I just wanted to say thanks for…standing up for me earlier today."

"Oh! I-it was no trouble. You'll have to excuse the other mens' behavior; they ain't used to womenfolk on board the ship."

She half scoffed, half chuckled, "I could see _that_. You'd think they'd never _seen_ one before."

Billy laughed, "Aye! Oh, and uh…don't mind Mullins too much…he usually calms down once ya get to know 'im."

She nodded, "Thanks."

"Well…goodbye, miss…"

She watched him as the door closed behind him, "Bye!" At least _someone_ here acted like a normal human.

She couldn't help being a bit miffed at not having dinner with Hook that night, though. She had honestly been looking forward to some of the smart aleck comments she had come up with during her long meditation previously.

But the short conversation with Jukes had admittedly lifted her spirits, if only a little. She'd continue irritating Hook tomorrow. An evening without that kind of stress was probably good for her for right now.


	8. Chapter 8

"Alright! Closest to the lava wins the game!"

Nibs, Slightly, Curly, and John peered over the edge of Smokey Top's crater to the molten rock deep below the surface. Smokey Top's opening spanned at least one hundred yards across, and its throat went just as deep and even further below the surface of the molten rock. John winced, clutching his hat and pressing it to fit more snugly around his head.

"Do you have any idea what temperatures molten lava can get to, Peter?" He tried to hold back a shudder, "A tiny drop could seer straight to the bone!"

"I know! Haha!" Peter tumbled in the air, stopping upside down in front of the other boys, "What a perfectly marvelous adventure it will be!"

John barely had the time to let out an exasperated sigh before Peter rose higher with an ear-piercing crow, then dove to the red glowing pit below.

"Hey no fair!" Curly's yell echoed through the vertical cavern as the boys trailed behind their leader.

However, Peter's attention was quickly turned from this game to a bright glint he spotted out of the corner of his eye. His head darted to a ledge only eight feet above the surface of the boiling magma where the walls seemed to pucker around something shiny and even blacker than the ash encrusted rock surrounding it.

Slightly did a double take when he saw Peter divert from his original path. "Peter? Where are you going?" His cry caught the other boys' attention, and they went to follow him.

As Peter neared the ledge, he could make out a smooth, round rock wedged inside the dull, chalky stone around it.

"Wow!" Nibs nudged past the other boys as they gathered around, "What's that, Peter?"

Slightly leaned in, "That's slightly the strangest rock I've ever seen."

"Seems to be a bit of crystallized volcanic stone," John explained, "Obsidian."

"Hey! Who you callin' '_obsidian_'?" Curly shoved John playfully.

"Ugh!" John shoved him back, "It's a type of stone, not an insult!"

"Well, whatever it is, _I'm_ taking it to bring back to Wendy!" Peter dove to get a grip on it.

"But, Peter," Nibs hovered next to him, "won't Tink be jealous if you bring something back for Wendy and not her?"

"Oh, she'll get over it!" Peter said, still tugging at the stone, "We can get her something from Small Monday Island later."

His fingers slipped against the smooth surface of the stone, "Ergh! I…just can't get a good grip on it," he looked around aimlessly for a moment then reached for his dagger. Lodging the tip of the blade in a narrow crevice around the stone, he pried and jiggled the dagger around until he could feel it wriggling out of place. "Ah! Almost got it!"

The stone popped out of its socket, and it glowed freshly. The boys weren't completely sure if it was just from the light of the magma around them or whether it glowed all on its own.

"Wow! This must be the rarest stone in the world! _AUGH!_" Peter dropped his new prize when he felt the smooth surface sear his palms, "Oh no!"

He dove for it, holding out his cape and catching it just before it was lost in the molten earth below. "I'll have to wait for it to cool off first." He turned to the other boys, "Come on! Let's get this home to Wendy! She'll _love_ it!"

Peter nearly left the other boys in the dust as he rushed home to the Underground House. He slid down the trunk of his tree and flipped several times before landing in front of Wendy, presenting her with the stone. "Wendy! I just found the rarest stone in all of Neverland!" he placed the rock in her hands with a prideful look, "And now it's _all yours!_"

Wendy examined the stone curiously, "Oh, Peter…it's _amazing!_"

"What's this about a rare stone?" Tink fluttered out from her flower, "And why does _Wendy_ get one and not me?" She hovered over the dark stone for a moment, and her uncertain expression was startling. "I…I could _swear_ I've seen that stone before…"

"We found it in Smokey Top," Peter explained.

"Smokey Top…" Tink shook her head, "Why does that sound so familiar?"

"Of course it seems slightly familiar," Slightly said, "Smokey Top's been in Neverland forever!"

"Not _Smokey Top_, you silly human! The _stone!_ I know I've heard something about a black stone in a volcano before. A _special_ stone." She scratched her head, "How could I forget? It seems like it was something really important…like there's something really bad about that stone that I just can't remember…"

Peter scoffed, "Oh, Tink…every time I find a new adventure, you have to spoil it with your doom and gloom stories!"

"I don't know, Peter," Wendy said, turning the stone over in her hands, "Usually Tink's 'doom and gloom stories' are right. Besides, don't you remember what happened _last_ time you stole a precious stone for me?"

"I didn't _steal_ it, Wendy. It was in Smokey Top; it didn't belong to anyone."

"Whatever it is…I _know_ it's something terrible," Tink landed back on her flower, tapping the heels of her palms to her forehead, "Why can't I remember?"

"Maybe you _should_ take it back," Wendy agreed, "What if it _is _something bad?"

"I'm not taking it _back_!" Peter crossed his arms, "No evil is powerful enough to beat _me_ anyway."

"Still…I'm going to Tintagel to see if I can find anything about it," Tink tied her pouch of fairy dust around her waist and flew toward the door, "There has to be _something_ about it in one of the ancient fae texts."

Wendy nodded, "And until Tink finds out what it is, I think we should lock it up for safe keeping."

"Who would try to steal anything from _me_?" Peter boasted, "Aside from Captain Codfish, and he doesn't even know where we live."

"I'm not locking it up to keep it safe, Peter," she unlocked a small compartment in the wall and placed the stone inside, "I'm locking it up to keep _us_ safe."

* * *

Riley was awoken by light spilling in through the window, the beams forming diamond shaped patterns across the bedspread. She squinted with a blink and wished Hook had thought to install curtains. There was no use trying to fall back to sleep now; the sun was already high in the sky. It had to be at least nine or ten o'clock, and still, the Captain hadn't sent for her.

She shrugged. Fine with her…

As she washed up and began to dress herself, she thought seriously about defying Hook's orders completely and dressing in her own clothes, but after some contemplation, she decided to wait. Best to pick her battles for now.

She was quickly dressed and ready and standing with ear against the door, listening for any activity on deck. There was a tiny bit of movement and the muffled sound of the waves as they beat against the ship. Cracking the door open, she saw most of the men on deck, the majority of which not doing anything in particular. There was no Smee to be seen…and no Hook.

She felt the warm sun beat down upon her as she stepped out on deck. Neverland looked as beautiful as ever, much too beautiful for her to have to be cooped up on the Jolly Roger.

"Good mornin' to ya, Miss Sparks," Jukes greeted her as she neared where he had been polishing Long Tom.

"Hey, Jukes—"

She was hardly given the time to address him before Starkey practically shoved Jukes out of the way and bowed before her in one, fluid motion, "Good _day_, Madame!"

"Hey!" Jukes shoved Starkey back, half in true annoyance and half in jest.

"I realize I have not gotten to formally introduce myself, my lady," Riley noticed that he trilled his words even more than usual as he took her hand in a similar way Hook was accustomed to doing. She would have to get used to that.

"Ignatious P. Starkey! Perhaps you would like a tour of this fine ship? I would be honored if you would permit me, Miss."

"Oh, stow it, matey," Jukes laughed, "She ain't fallin' for none a' your philanderin'."

"Uh!" Starkey stiffened with a slight blush, "I say! That is no way to talk to a gentleman of—"

Riley removed her hand from Starkey's, "I guess you guys could take me on a tour. I've got nothing else to do right now."

Starkey's face brightened, "Wonderful!" he took her arm and guided her toward the helm, "Are you at all familiar with sailing vessels, my lady?"

"…no, not really…"

Jukes rolled his eyes with a sideways smile, following his shipmate close behind. _Someone_ had to keep an eye on him.

The first day without Hook went quite smoothly. Riley got quite an informative lesson in nautical vessels and sea life, and for the first time, she felt sort of welcome aboard the Jolly Roger, at least as welcome as possible, considering the circumstances. Plus, it was a relief to have had a break from Hook's nagging.

That was, until one day turned into two…then three…and after four days of being stuck on the ship with nothing at all to do and with no Hook to speak of, Riley was almost starting to miss his nagging. It had been something to be occupied with, at least. The other men were at work for the majority of the day, an activity which she was forbidden to participate in, and she was left to either remain in her cabin or entertain herself on deck.

Waking up on the fourth day, Riley stretched, her legs dangling over the edge of the bed, and she glanced toward the dress and petticoat she had been wearing for going on six days now. Reasoning that no one here would care what she decided to wear that day, she resorted to wearing her own clothes. The dress was already tight, stiff, and itchy, and after wearing it for so long, it was starting to reek. She probably could have gotten one of the men, Smee perhaps, to wash it for her, but she decided it could wait for a couple of days. It would give her a few hours of comfort, anyway.

The day went on like clockwork, exactly the same as the previous three, and she was finding herself more and more agitated. She had even considered jumping ship and taking her chances on the island alone, but she wasn't about to swim the quarter-mile to shore. She had seen the croc, already, and there was no telling what other creatures were waiting down there.

When mentioning Hook's long absence to Jukes that evening, the boy shrugged. "No telling with the Cap'n…his temper's as unpredictable as an earthquake. He has it out for Pan, sure, but it's rare he's ever gone _this_ long in one go."

"That old, one-handed sea dog ain't never made sense tah me," Mullins growled from where he worked nearby, "Changes his mind fast as a seaport wench."

"It's sure takin' a toll on Bosun Smee, though," Jukes shook his head, "He can barely make it to his hammock they been gettin' back so late."

"Aye!" Mason added, "I were out with 'im just yesterday, and we spent the whole day trudgin' through that Neverland jungle. Wasted the entire day an' over half the night."

"I don't know how you guys stand it, being out at sea for months at a time with nothing to do," Riley sighed, "At least Hook's constant pestering wasn't so boring."

Mullins spat some of the tobacco he had been chewing, "Cabin fever'll do that to ya, lass. Don't take long."

Jukes smirked, "Hey, what say ya come down below decks with us for a while. It's somethin' to do, anyway, and Mullins can tell a great ghost story."

"Hey, now, Jukes!" Mullins gave him a warning glare, "This _ship _ain't no place for a woman, much less below decks. B'sides, if Cap'n found out, he'd have our guts for garters."

"Oh, come on, matey!"

"Actually, he's got a point about Hook," Riley shrugged, "It wasn't exactly a good note we left on last time…but for the record, I'd do _just fine_ below decks."

Mullins snorted but didn't reply. He had grown somewhat accepting of her presence, but he sure wasn't going to get all buddy-buddy with her anytime soon.

"But Hook hasn't been getting back until six…eight bells after midnight! And Smee ain't here to tattle on ya. What'a ya say?"

It was only minutes before Riley found herself in the cramped, smoggy confines of the galley surrounded by rowdy, slightly buzzed pirates. The evening mostly consisted of gambling, roughhousing, and a few spooky tales told by Mullins. She couldn't say it was her first choice in ways to spend her evening but at least it was interesting. The competition got especially heated with the arm wrestling. Naturally, Mason came out on top every time with Mullins in second and Starkey in third, Jukes and Cookson preferring to remain spectators. Mason's undefeated title, however, didn't stop Mullins from fighting relentlessly for his number one spot.

"That was a close one, matey. Held 'im off pretty good that time." Jukes would always find _some_ words of encouragement even though he knew perfectly well Mullins would never beat the muscle bound carpenter.

Starkey chuckled, "I say, Mullins, it's a _wonder_ you even _try_ anymore."

Mullins growled, "Maybe cause Mason's the only lubber on this ship worth 'is salt enough to be a challenge, ya scrawny _fop_." Starkey's jaw dropped, but just as he opened his mouth to retort, he was cut off.

"I wouldn't mind giving it a shot." There was an uncomfortable period of silence at Riley's request to join in.

"Eh…you?" Mason scratched his bald head.

"Lass this ain't no pickin' _daisies_," Mullins squinted with a sideways glance, "This be a man's game."

"Hey, if you can all beat me, I'll consider myself proven wrong."

His mustache bristled as he fixed her with an arched eyebrow, "Alright…ya wanna join in so bad…if you can beat Starkey, I _might_ change my mind."

"_Me?_" Starkey flustered, "Subject a lady to such frivolity? I'm sure I couldn't—"

"I'm sturdy enough…_promise_." She offered an arm, "Come on, just once."

Starkey sighed, "Very well…but don't say I didn't warn you, lass."

"On three, then," Mason began the countdown, "One…two…_three!_"

Starkey barely had the time to hear Mason's shout of _three_ before Riley had pinned his arm to the table. "I say, lass!" Starkey rubbed the back of his hand where his knuckles had collided quite solidly with the hard wood table, "I was hardly ready."

Jukes chuckled, "Oh, _sure_ you weren't!"

"She got ya pinned fair and square, Starkey," Mason nodded.

Mullins arched a bushy eyebrow, "Hmph…do it again. Be ready this time, Starkey."

Mason counted down the same as before, and though taking a few seconds longer this time, Riley once again had Starkey pinned.

Starkey stared sheepishly at his pinned arm, clearing his throat with a slightly embarrassed flush, "Well…I suppose you have…_beaten_ me fair and square." He held out his hand, though it was clear his ego had been a bit bruised, "I do congratulate you, Miss."

She couldn't hide the smirk toward Mullins as she accepted Starkey's congratulations. The man, while surprised and possibly even impressed, chuckled, "Alright, ya can hold yer own well enough, I suppose. Don't get cocky, though. Remember, it was only _Starkey_."

"I beg your _pardon_!" Starkey's thin mustache almost seemed to droop at the remark.

"Fine. But you're next…"

Mullins laughed, "Ya wouldn't last two seconds!"

She shrugged, "I might not be able to beat you, but I'll bet I can hold you off for a while."

"A bet?" Mullin's rubbed his chin in contemplation, "Very well…one crown says ya don't make it thirty seconds."

Riley's shoulders stiffened, "Well…when I said "bet" it was a figure of speech."

"Ah! Not so confident with cash on the line!"

"I don't have any money on me, is all," she rummaged through her pockets to find nothing but her sketchbook until she checked one of the large pockets on her pants leg and pulled out an old, wrinkled package.

"I've got these," she held the brightly colored bag so he could read the label.

"Sk…skiiiiitt…_laaays_…what's that?"

"_Skittles_," she tore open the package, pouring some of the contents into her palm and handing him one, "It's just candy, but it's all I've got."

Mullins sniffed the small, round candy then took a cautious bite. "Well…it'll do just this once," he propped an arm up on the table, and Riley grasped his calloused hand tightly.

"Ready, maties?" Mason began, "Count o' three…one…two…_three!_"

Riley very nearly lost as soon as she had begun but was able to make a quick recovery, and the four men that watched cheered in excitement. Only ten seconds in and Riley's bicep burned.

"Hey! She ain't doin' half bad!" Mason said in surprise, "Almost halfway there, lassy."

"She ain't…gonna make it…much further," Mullin's grunted between breaths. Riley could feel her entire arm cramping, but she wasn't about to give up. Not before thirty seconds had passed.

"Seven seconds! Six seconds!"

"_Ergh_!" the veins in Mullins' arm pulsed as he began gaining the upper hand.

The seconds seemed like hours, but Riley wouldn't give up. Her brain screamed for Mason to count faster.

"_Three! Two! ONE!_"

The second Mason reached zero, Riley let Mullins pin her. But she had won. The men cheered, and Mullins' face screwed up half in surprise and half in annoyance at losing his bet. But before he could open his mouth to complain, the men's cheers abruptly faltered, and his face turned white as he fixated on something behind her.

When Riley turned her head, her stomach leapt into her mouth as she found Captain Hook standing in the doorframe. He looked down his nose at her with a gaze that wasn't exactly friendly but wasn't quite the disapproving sneer she was used to either. For several awkward seconds, no one spoke; Hook's eyes finally left Riley, glancing quickly over the men, then back to her. She was sure he would punish her somehow, not only for being up after midnight as he had given strict orders against, but for being below decks with the crew _and_ for the way she was dressed.

But he didn't. As suddenly as he had appeared, he had left. Still, no one spoke. Riley watched the spot where Hook had been as she heard him ascending the stairs to go above decks.

By the time Riley was aware she had even moved, she was out the door, and making her way to the wooden steps herself, ignoring the urgent, whispered warnings from the crew not to. She emerged silently from the hatch in time to find him about to open the double doors to his cabin.

"Why have you been avoiding me?"

He spun around quickly, and it became clear that he hadn't at all expected her to follow him. Despite looking uncharacteristically disheveled, he quickly hid his surprise, standing his ground as she approached him.

"I assure you, Miss Sparks, I have been doing no such thing," his chin jutted forward, and he fixed her with that superior look she had become familiar with, "Perhaps it comes as a revelation on your part that not all of my choices revolve around _you_."

"_Really_?" She stopped in front of him, folding her arms across her chest, an action that reminded Hook a bit too much of Peter Pan. "So the fact that I haven't seen you in four days _right after_ you tried to flog me is just a coincidence?"

He seemed to deflate a bit at the mention of her near flogging. "Miss Sparks…" he sighed and turned to push open the door to his cabin. At first, she thought he was about to go in and shut the door on her, but instead, he motioned for her to go in ahead of him. With barely a second's hesitation, she complied, and Hook shut the door quietly, turning to her as he continued, "Make no mistake, I still find your behavior _absolutely_ unorthodox and _certainly_ uncouth…" He paused. Whatever he was trying to say, he was clearly having difficulty saying it. "…but I owe you an apology."

Riley's eyebrows rose curiously. She had expected another argument; humility was the _last_ thing she had expected.

"A gentleman should never subject a lady to such harsh punishment. It should have been beneath me to even suggest it," there was a humble, yet still dignified tone in his voice, "I let my anger get the better of me, and I realize that I had purposefully and needlessly provoked you as well."

Riley hadn't a clue how to respond. His apology was a little rushed but clearly genuine. There was still a ting of annoyance at his insistence on continuing to think she was made of porcelain, but it had come to be expected at this point. It was something she could ignore for now. However, he obviously wasn't used to asking forgiveness from to anyone. Not sincerely, anyway.

"I don't claim to understand how the female mind works, Miss Sparks," he continued, "but I must say yours is a strange case."

She shrugged, "How so?"

Hook chuckled with a shake of his head, "Surely you must realize you hold some…_unique _ideals?"

"I don't think wanting to try piracy makes my ideals that unique. There were—_ARE_ female pirates, aren't there?"

"That isn't so common either, though it isn't precisely what I was referring to."

"What then?" She slumped to rest a shoulder against the wall, "Is it the clothes?"

Hook shook his head, "No, it isn't that either," he almost seemed to fidget as he paused. He looked to her intently, waiting a few seconds to continue. "I'm more concerned with the fact that you expressed anger when I didn't flog you."

Her eyebrows rose in surprise, "…oh…"

"I trust you can understand my confusion, then?"

She stood up straight again, "Well…it wasn't that I _wanted _to be flogged; I'm not a masochist. But just as you were finally treating me like you would have any other person, you pulled the rug right out from under me." She placed her hands in her pockets. "It might have left a few marks, but I would've been _fine_. I thought I would get an opportunity to prove to _you_ I'm not delicate, but I didn't get a chance. How would _you_ have reacted?"

"That is an entirely different matter, miss. I am a—"

"A man. Yes. I _know._ But you were the one that said you didn't know how a woman's mind works. How can you know my mind doesn't work a lot like _yours_?"

He inhaled as if to reply but stopped as he realized that he _couldn't_ know for sure. Hook puzzled over this tiny introspection, not quite convinced that she was entirely right but still intrigued enough to file the thought away for further contemplation.

Riley felt a bit of pride in herself at being able to silence him like that. It would have been fairly easy to render someone as hard headed as him speechless, but not someone as intelligent as she knew he was. She was content for now with that small victory.

"I did wear the dress, by the way," she said, dropping into the velvet chair behind her, "Up until today, at least; i t's starting to stink."

It was a few seconds before Hook even seemed to realize she had spoken again, "Oh—yes, of course…I'll have Smee put it in the wash tomorrow morning."

Riley sighed with a huff. Apparently the dress was going to remain an issue.

The corner of Hooks mouth curled upward. If he hadn't known any better, he would have thought he was in the company of one of the Lost Boys, not a grown woman. "Very well, Miss Sparks, I am willing to make a compromise." The Captain nudged the large chest of clothes at his feet toward her, "I will allow you to pick a dress that is more to your liking, but only if you agree to obey the rules I have set for my ship."

She pursed her lips, "So wearing pants _still_ isn't an option."

Hook shook his head with a sarcastic chuckle, "You are bound and determined to remain displeased, aren't you?"

She held his gaze for a moment then sighed again, "Ok, ok…you're right." She pushed herself up to her feet then kneeled to the chest as Hook opened it.

Rummaging through the chest's contents, she came across many garments that she would much rather have had the option to chose from. There were old shirts, pants, some very interesting coats and hats, even one that resembled an old captain's uniform. But in her disappointment, she pushed them all aside in search of a half-decent dress. And there were a lot to choose from. Most were adorned with complex lace patterns and pearls, intricate embroideries and luxurious fabrics. They weren't bubblegum pink, she would give them that, but they still didn't look like the easiest things to walk in. Or _live_ in. One, however, did catch her eye, and as she pulled it from its hiding place at the very bottom of the heap, she noticed Hook's nose wrinkle.

It was a rather simple dress with minimal lace, but the lace that was there had turned a light shade of grayish-brown and the rusty red material was frayed at the neckline and sleeves.

"Hm! This one's not so bad."

"That one?" Hook's eyebrows seemed to nearly escape his forehead, "Are you sure? It looks rather…worn, would you not say?"

"Yeah! It adds character." She feigned a dramatic gasp, "And guess what! It's my size! That means I won't have to have me organs permanently shoved into my ribcage! Isn't that _fantastic_?"

Hook's eyebrows quickly returned to his forehead to make a straight line over his eyes. "Cheeky…"

Riley held back a light snicker. If she didn't know any better, she would say that retort seemed almost playful. Both of them were silent for a moment, and as if on cue, a light chiming came from the corner of the room where Hook's desk was, saving them from a rather awkward silence. Riley quickly identified it as the ring tone for text messages she had set on her phone.

Hook seemed rather put out by the sound, "I had forgotten about that. Is that little device of yours merely designed to irritate its owner?"

"It's a text message!" Riley ran to the desk, too eager to ask Hook's permission to go rummaging through the drawers. She flipped the phone open, and sure enough, it was a text from Liz.

"From: Liz

U might want to start heading back. Were ordering pizza for dinner from marcos. Is pepperoni ok?

Sat, Jun 18, 5:43 pm"

"What the devil is a 'text message'?" Hook peered over her shoulder, squinting to read the small words on the screen, and he scoffed. "What a poor grasp on proper grammar…"

Riley rolled her eyes. Leave it to Hook to pay attention to the bad grammar when faced with a piece of technology that should seem alien to him. She turned, eyes still on her phone, to sit back in the velvet chair. "This text was sent at five forty-three the day I left." She snapped the phone shut to look at the time and date on the front and her stomach leapt. "Saturday, June eighteenth, five _forty-three_ pm—that _can't_ be right."

Quickly catching onto what she was talking about, Hook came to stand in front of her, "Perhaps that device _is_ broken."

"I don't know," she opened it again, flipping through menus and experimentally pressing buttons, "It seems to be working fine otherwise. Better than normal, actually; it's faster than it usually is." She held the screen toward Hook and pointed to the battery life, "See? Its got full pow—" She paused as she realized the graphic meant absolutely nothing to _him_. "Never mind," she said, flipping it shut again.

Hook watched as she flipped the phone open and closed several more times with the same result.

"I guess the clock _must_ be broken. It's been over a minute, and it still says five forty-three." Her eyes remained glued to the front screen, "Has it made that noise before?"

"It has been quite obnoxious as of late, but I don't recall hearing that _particular_ little _tune_."

"Hm…" She flipped the phone open and closed again, then attempted to suppress a yawn.

"Well, m'dear, I think that the best thing for you to do right now would be to get some sleep."

Riley finally looked up at him. She nodded, standing to retrieve the new, or rather, _old_ dress, "Right. I'll see you…"

"Tomorrow," Hook stated firmly, "Bright and early. I should suppose it will be as good a time as any to give you a proper tour of Neverland."

Her face brightened, "Finally! A tour would be great!"

"Aye," he nudged her gently toward the door, "Rest well. You'll need it."

She had her hand on the door knob when she turned back towards him, smirking as she waved her phone toward him, "You didn't want this back, did you?"

Seeing the face he made was well worth the offer, "No! You can keep that, by all means."

Riley laughed, "Alright, if you say so. Goodnight."


	9. Chapter 9

For the first time since her arrival on the Jolly Roger, Riley had actually gotten a decent night's sleep, and even after a full eight hours, Hook's apology was still heavy on her mind. While she still thought she had a right to have been angry with him, she realized that he had had a point when he said she was lucky. She could only guess what fate could have awaited her if she had found herself on most _any_ other pirate ship.

At the same time, she still wasn't sure how she felt about the man yet. Almost every moment she had spent in his presence it was nothing but bickering, and she truly wondered if there was anything they could agree on, anything at all they might have in common. After the awkwardness of making amends, the tiny bit of interaction they had seemed pleasant, even friendly. Even if they _didn't _have anything in common, there could be no doubt Hook _was_ the most interesting person she had ever met. A pirate captain from a children's fantasy novel…who else had a chance to meet someone like _that_? It would really have been a shame for her to pass up the opportunity to do something other than argue with _Captain Hook_.

Riley splashed some cool water from the wash basin onto her face and stared at the ripples the droplets made as they fell from her chin. Exactly how much of the story about Hook and Neverland as she knew it was accurate? She had read the original story, _Peter Pan and Wendy_, and while a lot seemed to be true, some things were very different. And come to think of it, how had J. M. Barrie come to write the story to begin with? Had he seen these things too? Had he dreamed them? Riley had pinched herself too many times within the past few days to still think _she_ was dreaming. She had occasionally closed her eyes and opened them, checking her hand to make sure she didn't have any extra digits or an object to make sure it functioned logically. No, it was real; she knew her own dreams too well to think otherwise.

She found herself motionless as she stared into the now soapy water. She wished these were the most important questions she had to worry about. While she still wasn't sure that she wanted to leave right away, she still had to wonder how much Hook was actually doing to _find _her a way home. Perhaps if one was found, she would be able to let her friends know she was ok, at the very least. That was…if she would be able to come back once she left. She had gone back and forth on the issue innumerable times without settling on an answer. It would be selfish to stay, really. Liz would be worried, and her family would find out about her disappearance. Surely they already had. A lump formed in her throat at the thought of how worried they must be. They might think she had died. These thoughts brought her previously high spirits down a few pegs. She knew there was nothing she could do about it, and it wouldn't do to worry, but she had never been good at not worrying.

She jerked in surprise at the knock at her door then exhaled in annoyance. She really wished they would quit that.

"Come in." She was barely finished speaking before the door swung open to reveal Smee.

And he wasn't alone. Starkey, who was cleaning the rail in front of her door, was, not at all subtly, straining to peek curiously into her room from behind the man.

She peered around Smee to give him a smug look, "Nice try, Starkey, but I'm already dressed!"

Starkey didn't have time to act ashamed, as Smee turned and waved his cutlass at him, yelling something about spilling his guts with Johnny Corkscrew, some of which she couldn't understand because it wasn't English. She held back an amused scoff; these men really _must_ have been deprived.

After Starkey had been shooed away, Smee turned back to her as if the ordeal hadn't happened at all, "Beggin' yer pardon, lassy, but the Cap'n says he'd like ya to accompany a shore party as soon as yer ready."

She gave a quick nod, "Thanks, Mr. Smee, I'll be out in a minute."

It wasn't much longer than that before she was out on deck, eagerly awaiting their venture to shore. She was relieved that the worn material of her new dress was much softer against her skin and, while still not quite as comfortable as her own clothes, it was better suited for maneuverability.

Hook stood in the center of the deck, overseeing the men as they prepared to disembark. He continued to bark orders until he noticed Riley approaching. "Good morning to you, Miss Sparks. I trust you are prepared for our little outing?"

Riley nodded with a small smile, coming to stand just out of the way of where Starkey and Mason were readying the longboat. She noticed that Starkey was trying very hard not to make eye contact with her, and she guessed it had less to do with actual embarrassment and more to do with him not wanting her to be provoked into bringing up his previous curiosity to the Captain.

"Sooo, what's the itinerary?"

Hook offered her his hand to help her into the boat. She wouldn't admit it, but this time she really did appreciate it. Looking down the crack between the longboat and the ship, they had to be at least thirty feet above the water's surface. "I would think it best to begin circling the island in the longboat. Not far west are the mermaid grottos in Mermaid Lagoon. The sirens aren't usually keen on attempting to capsize boats with _me_ in them, so it should be quite safe."

She opened her mouth as if to say "ah" and seated herself as Hook directed her to the bow, in front of which he stood himself. The other men, Mullins, Jukes, Starkey, and Smee, were quick to man their oars, and Mason, who stayed behind along with Cookson, turned the crank to lower them to the ocean below. Riley had to admire how Hook's stance never budged once as the longboat hit the water.

The four pirates manning the oars began rowing parallel to the shore away from the Jolly Roger, and as soon as it was entirely visible, Hook directed her attention toward the strange, hook shaped island that curled far above the ship. "As you might have guessed, that paranormal spit of land is aptly named Hook Island. One might think it a _humorous_coincidence. I, however, suspect it to be a cruel_ prank_ by Pan to remind me of my…_unfortunate ailment_." His hook twitched as he held the grizzly instrument up in demonstration.

More questions than she could possibly ask flooded her brain as her attention was directed at the appendage. How did Peter take your hand? Is "Hook" your real last name? How did you get your hook? Is it itchy?

As any of these questions would have probably been rather insensitive to ask, she decided on something a little less personal. "So…Peter Pan controls everything in Neverland?"

Hook paused before answering, "As far as I can gather. I don't pretend to understand this peculiar place, but from what I have experienced with the wretched _boy_, it seems as if one is entirely dependent upon the other, a fact which I have certainly…_exploited_ in past encounters."

She had so many more questions she couldn't properly put into words. All she could do was make a small sound of mild understanding.

"We be a'nearin' Mermaid Lagoon, Cap'n," Smee piped in as Riley began to notice that she was beginning to see large rocks a few feet below the clear surface of the water.

She could almost feel the low rumble from Hook's chest through the planks of the boat as he glared toward his bosun. "I've got eye's, ya Irish dunderhead!" His tone calmed as he continued. "Keep a wary eye, all of you. The sea maidens are bound to be about this time of day, though they tend to steer clear of _piratical_ sailing vessels…usually."

The water here was eerily calm. Even with the tiny ripples the boat made as it cut through the surface, she could see at least ten to fifteen feet down easily, and the rocks were almost like oversized precious stones gleaming in vivid, earthy greens and blues. At one point, she barely caught a small glimmer from the corner of her eye that disappeared in between a large crevice about seven feet below.

Mullins glanced about in between strokes, "Seems the sea wenches are playin' coy today. Just as well, I'd say."

While Riley was certainly curious, she had to agree with the irritable pirate. Judging by what she had already heard about the mermaids, they were creatures she would have preferred to steer clear of.

"Beach the longboat on Small Monday Island, cullies. I have some business here to minister to."

He turned his gaze to Riley with that smirk she knew all too well. _Here it comes…_

"Are you quite sure you are up to a hike, Miss Sparks? Neverland terrain can make for a rather difficult trek from time to time."

She refrained from rolling her eyes. After all, she couldn't expect the teasing to disappear overnight. "_Yeah_. I think I can manage."

The glint in his eye had almost the same effect as a wink, and she realized that his pestering this time was intended to be playful. As the captain turned from her to the oncoming shore, she also realized that she really _had_ been beginning to miss the banter.

Mullins and Starkey took to pushing the longboat to shore, and as soon as they were on dry land, the others exited as well. Hook turned back toward Riley, intent on helping her from her seat, but he was faced with an empty boat. Turning back toward shore, the girl already stood midway between the incoming tide and the beach trees that outlined the wooded area several feet away, admiring the new scenery.

Riley gazed over the low canopy to the strange twisting land masses and trees that loomed in the distance. The island lived up to its name. It was compact, but there seemed to be a lot of activity confined to the tiny place. She could spot people walking across some of these unusual land bridges, and even from her faraway perspective, she could tell that many of these creatures weren't human. She refrained from bouncing on her heals in excitement. It was really all true. This _was_ an enchanted place.

She gave a start when she felt a large hand on her shoulder, turning her head first toward the purple glove near her neck, then back around to where Hook stood behind her.

"Don't wonder too far ahead, m'dear." He looked back toward the men, as they finished securing the longboat and came to follow their captain into the jungle-like growth. From the outside, the forest looked as if it took up the majority of the island, but once they had started walking, it was barely a minute before they came to a large arch that marked the entrance to a village. Tree roots and branches twisted in huge arcs that functioned as bridges for the creatures that resided there.

Hook led them in, paying no mind to the other creatures there, most of whom seemed less than happy to see them. A few of the smaller creatures, the gnomes and fairies, changed direction in order to avoid the intimidating Captain.

"Stay with my men, Miss Sparks," his gaze hardened on his crew, "and if I hear of any mishaps resembling the _last_ time I loosed you dogs on Small Monday Island, I'll have your hearts on a spit! _Smee!_ Come with me."

"Oh, aye, Cap'n!" Smee nodded, "That I will!"

As soon as the captain and bosun were gone, Mullins groaned, "Ugh…Small Monday Island…as if bein' on land weren't bad enough…"

Riley nudged Jukes, who stood next to her, "What exactly _happened_ last time on Small Monday Island?"

"It's a long story," he said with a sigh, "Let's just say we all ended up…_small_."

"Aye!" Starkey said, clearly remembering a very irritating event, "And our voices didn't go back to normal for an entire week."

Riley held back a snort of laughter as she imagined a chipmunk-like voice coming out of Mullins.

"Come on!" Jukes motioned her to follow him, "I'll show ya around the fair."

* * *

"Eh, pardon me, Cap'n, but exactly _what_ kind of _business_ did yeh have that ya need doin' at Small Monday Island?"

Hook glanced toward Smee from over his shoulder and ignored his instincts to make a reference to the bosun's stupidity, "The kind of business that ain't _your_ business, _Smee!_" Hook stopped as he neared one of the many large trees. In the trunk was as small, blue door, the paint on which was peeling and the edges chipped.

Hook pounded on the door with a heavy fist. If anyone was in the little tree hovel, they had probably been rattled out of their own skull. He didn't give the resident five seconds before striking the door again with an irritated snarl. "Django! I know you're in there, you _sniveling_, little _boot-lick_!"

When the door still wasn't answered fast enough, Hook wrapped a massive fist around the tiny handle, and with a small but powerful jerk, the wood splintered, and the door was forced open.

He squeezed himself into the tiny door frame and leered toward the tiny man that had thrown himself behind a table.

"Listen, y-you…great, _bully_! I don't owe you _anything_ anymore! You have _no right_ to break into _my house_ and—"

"Quiet, traitor!" Hook reached over the table and hoisted him to eye level. "I don't have to be owed _anything_ to get what I want out of ya!" He dropped Django into one of the tiny chairs, and the man arched his back with a yelp as his tailbone collided with the hard, wood seat.

"Now…" Hook purred, brandishing his claw, "I want you to relay to me every _iota_ of knowledge you may have in that thick head of yours about transport in and out of Neverland."

"If it means you would leave Neverland, then I would be happy to."

"_I_ do not intend to leave Neverland a _second_ before eradicating Peter Pan, _fool!_ But this issue does not regard the insipid brat." He rounded the table to pace behind Django's chair, "Let's just say that the antics of a certain fairy have landed me an unexpected ward, and she needs to find a way _back._"

Django's bushy eyebrows rose, "Ah…so that's where she came from."

"Tell me Django," Hook buried his namesake into the squat, wooden chair right next to the dwarf's ear, "How can the girl get home?"

The man flinched at the collision of metal and wood right next to his head but kept his composure, "Out of Neverland is easy. But if you want her to get to a certain _place_ out of Neverland, that's not quite as simple."

"Simple or complex, pipsqueak, I require an answer!"

Django crossed his arms over his chest, "Well I can't give it to you, Captain."

Hook snarled, ripping his hook from the chair causing more splinters to scatter across the room and brought the appendage Django's throat.

"I'm telling the _truth_! I _swear!_" The tip of his hook eased off the man's neck only slightly. "Getting in and out of Neverland is a matter handled by fairies, not dwarves. If you want to know how to get the girl home, you should ask one of them."

Hook fixed him with a calculating leer, letting the tiny man squirm under his gaze until he decided he was being truthful. "You had best be right, little man, for if you aren't, my next visit may not be quite so cordial."

The Captain turned on his heal, his cape billowing so far out it nearly blanketed the tiny room, "And I really should come and visit more often, dear Django," he purred, voice dripping with malice, "I enjoy our talks."

* * *

"Wow! I really need to find a way to make some money around here so I can try some of this stuff out!"

Riley popped another one of the strange, assorted candies she had exchanged her Skittles for into her mouth. She glanced around the carnival, particularly at an impossibly tall rollercoaster that didn't seem like it should be able to fit in the crowded space of the fair at all.

"Good luck _there_, Miss Riley," Jukes said with a hint of exasperation, "We barely get paid as it is, much less any shore leave."

The two had already zigzagged through the columns of pavilions and rides and were approaching the entrance to the carnival area of the island.

"Say!" Jukes pointed toward the ticket marquee at the gate, "There's the Cap'n!"

Riley chuckled, "It doesn't look like he's a big fan of carnivals," she referred to the more than irritated scowl as he seemed to be having an exchange with the fairy that ran the stand, "That doesn't really surprise me."

Hook ground his teeth together in frustration, "I'm warning you, _fairy_, it would be in your _best interest_ to give me an honest answer to my question."

"You want an honest answer, mortal? Well, _honestly_, there's no _way_ anyone can get back home from Neverland without flying. Not without King Oberon's help. And you can bet a silly _mortal_ isn't important enough for him to even bother with—AH!"

The pixie shrieked as Hook wrapped a hand around her, threatening to crush her in his grasp. And he might have had he not spotted Jukes and Riley approaching out of the corner of his eye. He released his grip on her, and she hit the wooden ticket desk with a loud "oof" and a few choice words of displeasure, which Hook didn't even pay attention to.

"Jukes, Miss Sparks. I believe our business is done here. Let us find Mullins and Starkey, and—"

Before Hook could finish his sentence, there was a loud, gurgling wail followed by horror stricken screams and from around the corner of one of the large tents came Mullins and Starkey followed by a crowed of elves, gnomes, and fairies, all of which seemed to be fleeing from something.

"I say!" Starkey cried, "Everyone run for your lives!"

Hook's brow furrowed, "What the devil have you _dogs_ done _this_ time?"

He was answered in less than a second as a large, drooling creature emerged from behind the tent, waving a gargantuan club over his hideous, rock-like head.

Hook gave a ragged sigh at his men's incompetence, "O'look? You chicken-hearted, mully morts! Are you _really_running from that tiny brained—"

"Somethin' ain't right with 'im, Cap'n!" Mullins leapt behind the ticket marquee as the fairy manning it slammed the window shut, "'E's gone _crazy!_ Outta _nowhere!_"

Riley and Jukes backed away as O'look stalked toward them, but Hook stood his ground. The troll locked eyes with the Captain, and his mouth gapped wide in a screeching roar.

Hook huffed, "Just _try_ it, ya moronic, lumbering _ox_!"

The creature moved much more swiftly than he looked as if he could, snapping jagged teeth, which latched around Hook's drawn sword. Hook wrestled with the troll for a few seconds before his sword was wrenched from his hand, and he was tossed aside.

O'look paused for only a second before directing bulgy, bloodshot eyes in Riley and Jukes' direction, who both scrambled for a large tree right outside the fair.

"Hurry, Miss Riley! _Hurry!_" Jukes urged as he climbed up behind her.

O'look charged through the fair entrance, reaching up and swiping at the two from below.

Jukes slashed at the troll's fists with his sword, "Stand down, ye lily-livered…_ergh!_...s_cug!_"

Riley grabbed ahold of a nearby branch and twisted it until it snapped. Finding that the creature's bulbous eyes were a large target, she aimed carefully and hurled the makeshift sphere toward him. O'look screeched as it hit its mark, and he tried rubbing the large splinter out of his eye. This had given Hook ample time to recover and find his own sword. He sliced at the troll's calf and quickly backed off as the giant stumbled. Too concerned with getting the offending branch from his eye, O'look took to the woods as quickly as he had appeared.

There was almost a joint sigh of relief as elves, gnomes, fairies, and humans all emerged from their hiding places.

"Why _is_ it that I have the sneaking suspicion that you two are responsible for this?" Hook glared toward Mullins and Starkey.

"Under normal circumstances, Captain, I'd say we probably were," Starkey shook his head, "but it was as if he went manic out of _nowhere_!"

"Aye, cap'n!" Mullins nodded in agreement, "The brute was just standin' there one minute, then goin' completely berserk the next!"

Jukes and Riley scaled down the tree and went to join the rest of the crew.

Hook rubbed his eyes with a thumb and forefinger, "Mmnn…let's just get back to the Roger. There's not much of this place I can take at a single time." The men didn't have to be told twice. They quickly left the fair and headed back for the woods toward shore.

Hook nodded toward Jukes and Riley as he passed them, "Excellent work back there. _Both _of you."

Riley stared after the Captain, and Jukes poked her in the ribs with an elbow, "Hey, we mustn't have done too bad!" he whispered, "Cap'n hardly _ever_ gives anyone positive feedback."

She looked from Jukes back to Hook again, who gave a stern order as he passed Mullins and Starkey to keep up, and smiled.


End file.
